


All American

by ElisabethMonroe



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (IDK what that refers to but it fits so perfectly), Accidental Outing, Alternate Universe - Baseball, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Sports, Baseball, Baseball Idiots, Childhood Friends, Lovers to enemies to lovers, M/M, Modern Era, Mutual Pining, Pining, Sports, Sports Injury, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-16 20:06:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19325182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElisabethMonroe/pseuds/ElisabethMonroe
Summary: There are two constants in Bucky Barnes' life: Steve Rogers and baseball. After a devastating fallout right before they went pro, only one of those constants has been in Bucky's life. When he's traded from the Hydras, the team he helped build, to the Avengers, the team Steve helped build, Bucky has to learn how to contend with both loves of his life again, plus his grudge against Rogers and a new one against the Hydras, and an old injury kicking up again. The Mar-Vells continue to dominate, the Hydras have stacked their infield, and there's a new international team that's kicking everyone's ass. Oh, and the Avengers new co-captains can't even look at each other. Bucky's fifth major league season is shaping up to be the roughest yet, but he's got assholes to prove wrong and an asshole to win back, so he's not going to give up. Probably. Let's play ball!





	1. Bucky, Mighty Bucky Has...

**Author's Note:**

> My second Cap Reverse Big Bang for 2019!
> 
> Art by the wonderful [Odette and Odile!](https://odette-and-odile.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [ART LINK HERE](https://odette-and-odile.tumblr.com/post/185802292543/all-american-so-excited-to-share-this-art-made)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from my childhood favorite poem [Casey at Bat](https://poets.org/poem/casey-bat) (fun fact I had that poem memorized in middle school for a speech competition)

****

 

 

**The Non-Swing Heard ‘Round the World**

By: Dash Conner

There is no joy in Brooklyn tonight. What started off as a bad day for fans of the Hydra-Eight, has ended as an even more terrible night, with the team not advancing to the World Series and Bucky Barnes’ future sealed even more permanently. There has been wild speculation about the intentionality of Barnes’ strike out. Many fans have called for the evaluation of the umpire who called two strikes against Barnes that were more than debatable. Most of the blame rests squarely on Barnes’ shoulders though, as he watched a perfect strike come down the center of the plate. He barely even raised the bat from his shoulder.

Only an hour previously, in the height of the third inning, Alexander Pierce finalized a deal to trade Barnes to the Manhattan Avengers, the historic rivals of the Brooklyn Hydras, and notably Barnes’ personal least favorite team in the league. Fans of Barnes will know the history between the shortstop and the Avengers starting pitcher, Steve Rogers dates back to their high school years and has maintained the same energy through college and their first years in the major leagues.

Barnes joins teammates Natasha Romanov--the first solo female player in BML--and Clint Barton in the trade. The Hydras will gain slugger and fellow shortstop Brock Rumlow. Whether this trade will benefit the Hydras more--as Rumlow and Hydra second baseman, Jack Rollins also go back to college and work well together--or the Avengers--since the feud between Rogers and Rumlow is on a kind of legendary scale for an intra-team rivalry--will be seen fairly quickly next February.

Dugout footage caught the moment Barnes found out about the trade in the bottom of the eighth inning. By the time Barnes was up to bat in the ninth inning, the redness still hadn’t left his face, leaving many fans to speculate that Barnes’ infamous temper kept him from swinging with the winning runs on second and third.

Watch the interview with Jack Rollins, who had been on third at the time, and his take on the game down below.

Pierce, nor Barnes’ managers, responded to requests for statements.

 

The BML season is hitting a rocky ending, with the announcement of the much beloved Nordic team, the Asgardians, disbanding in a month, regardless of their win tonight against the Hydras, or their series performance against the Mar-Vells, the all female team that has blown past all expectations. The only sure fates for the Asgardian players is that team captain Thor Odinson will be making a move to the Avengers, while his brother, catcher Loki Laufeyson, will be retiring to pursue other passions.

After breaking three ribs, fracturing her elbow, and busting in her eye socket in one season, Mar-Vells’ first baseman Peggy Carter will be retiring, but already has a job as the Mar-Vell’s assistant coach lined up.

During trade negotiations, accusations of nepotism and inadequacy came up many times, but Pierce, Coach Karpov, and Coach Fury will all remain with their teams. Avengers owner Tony Stark will also not be selling the team any time soon, as was reported earlier in the season. See Stark’s biting response to questions asked before this last series down below.

 

The 2019 season already seems like one for the books and it hasn’t even begun yet. Be sure to subscribe to our mailing list and follow us on social media to keep up to date on trades, injuries, and scores.

  
  
  
  
  


Bucky Barnes stared at the field ahead of him. Night had fallen during the game, but it seemed even darker now. Maybe the sterile nature of the dugout was getting into his head. Janitors had come by to sweep up all the trash and sunflower seeds and bubble gum the Hydras had left in their wake. Even the bloody rag Rollins had had wrapped around his bad leg that he’d thrown off in a fit of anger when the umpire threatened to bench him for an open wound.

The concrete floor and metal bench and fence ahead of him were as clean as if the team had never been there. And maybe it was just so fucking painful because Bucky knew deep down that the Hydras were going to perform as if he’d never been on the team next season. He’d built this fucking team, dammit. He recruited the best talent. He brought baseball back to Brooklyn. And for Pierce to spout all this bullshit about how much of a son Bucky was to him only to trade him mid-fucking-game?

When the bouncing of his leg got to be too much, Bucky jumped up and grabbed the metal, weighted bat he used for swing practice and threw himself up the stairs to the field. Even though it was late, the lights were still on and Bucky felt like a performer in front of an empty auditorium. He stalked up to the white homeplate and knocked the tip of the bat against it once, and then twice quickly. He readied himself in an active pose and stared down the empty pitching plate. He didn’t even see Fandral, the charismatic, handsome, shithead of a pitcher for the Asgardians, as he pictured taking off someone’s head. Instead, all he ever saw was Steve Rogers standing there, cocksure grin on his lips, piece of bubblegum caught between his teeth.

The image winked at Bucky before firing a strike right down the center of the plate. “Nothing personal,” fake-Rogers said with another wink. And even though it was Fandral’s signature phrase, Bucky still lost it, beating the weighted bat against the homeplate until his arms went numb with the vibrations and he was so bent over that the bounce of the bat was almost hitting his forehead. He straightened up only to throw the bat towards the catcher’s backdrop. It hit the netting with a satisfying thud and fell to the ground.

Bucky punched and kicked at the air, screaming obscenities and nothings at the empty stadium until he finally lost his footing and fell onto his back on the orange dirt. He stared up at the stadium lights. They made the night sky seem blue. Moths fluttered around them with the occasional bat swooping in for a snack. Bucky screamed again, beating his fists against the ground and kicking his cleats into the dirt until the dust choked him back into silence.

“I taught him how to throw a ball,” Bucky shouted up at the moths. They didn’t care, and Bucky didn’t care that they didn’t care. “World class pitcher, my ass. He still side arms if you put him more than sixty feet away from fucking homeplate.”

The lights in the stands powered down and Bucky got to his feet, swaying slightly with the blood rush. “And who does Pierce think is gonna uphold this team, huh?” he asked the moths. “Fucking _Rumlow_?” He spat out on the ground with the name and then kicked dirt over it. “He’ll be in jail before the season starts! Fucking psychopath!”

The wind gusted up and a few moths fluttered down to enjoy the air ride.

“What the fuck did I do to deserve a mid-game trade? That’s reserved for the worst of the fucking worst, man!”

Bucky kicked at the ground some more before he just collapsed against the dirt, digging his fingers into it one last time. He’d put more blood and sweat into this dirt than anywhere in his life. He’d poured his all into this team, into Pierce, and for what?

When Pierce had offered him a contract his senior year of school, Bucky had declined. He wanted to stay and graduate and then go into the draft. It’s what every analyst and coach had told him to do. The incoming draft class coming straight from college was paltry at best. Him and Steve were just about the only seniors with any serious potential and they were sure-fire draft picks. First round even.

It was all just a pretty lie. If Bucky had ever stopped to consider who he played, he’d know that there was plenty of talent out in the draft class, and plenty of the draft class never finished school. But Bucky had the perfect life planned out and considering other people wasn’t part of that plan. Little League to the BML, Steve right by his side. Get the degree and play until he died. That was the goal.

But then Steve fucked it all up and Pierce offered a salary twice what he’d originally offered and all of the bravado of being a first round pick on national television went out the window. He took the offer and joined a no-name team and built that motherfucking thing from the orange ground up.

“We’ve changed the BML and we couldn’t have done it without you.”

Bull-motherfucking-shit.

They didn’t change shit. The Mar-Vells were changing the game. The Asgardians were a force to be reckoned with. Even the Goddamn Avengers were trying to do something good, even if they fucking sucked at it. The Hydras were just a fucking good team. Nothing beyond it. And now Bucky wasn’t part of it. It was his fucking team.

How many hours had he sat in that terrible office with Karpov and Pierce? How many tirades at he been subject to? How much abuse had he taken to put this team at the top of the roster again and again? He’d even fucked up his arm so bad one season that they almost permanently benched him. And then he’d _still_ played with stitches in it, three days out of surgery. No other team could be expected to operate like that. No other player could be expected to perform like that.

And Pierce had fucking traded him? To the Goddamn Avengers?

Above him, the lights whined and then slowly powered down. Bucky grabbed his bat, crossed back to the dugout, put his bag together, and left Zola Stadium for the last time as a Hydra.

 

*  * *

 

_“Oh, come on, seriously?” Bucky laughed, hands going to Steve’s, both orange and gritty from the work of practice and dragging the field afterwards. He tilted his head back and Steve’s mouth was immediately on his neck, like he’d just been waiting for permission._

_“Someone’s gonna come see us,” Bucky argued again, leaning into Steve’s chest and wrapping his arms tighter around himself._

_“Lucky them,” Steve purred against his skin._

_The late spring evening had set in heavy and the air was thick with the earlier storm shower still. The old wood of their high school dugout and the dirt on the field and the leather gloves they’d both just thrown on their ball bags were exactly the smell that made Bucky heady even when Steve wasn’t actively trying to bruise his neck._

_“Doll, I’m serious. Let’s just get home and you can do anything to me there,” Bucky insisted, though he didn’t pull away. Steve was warm with exertion and smelled like long nights on the field. Dusk was just beginning to fall over the stadium and no one would be out with them._

_“Not if your sister is there. She’s always in our business,” Steve whined softly, rubbing Bucky’s stomach until he untucked his practice jersey and could get his palm flat on Bucky’s skin. Bucky let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes as Steve’s hand traced senseless designs over his stomach._

_“Do you remember when I used to stand behind you like this?” Bucky hummed after a minute, before Steve could decide to drop his hand lower. “It was me hugging you tight and holding you against my big strong chest.”_

_Steve laughed and nodded. “Was only a year ago,” he agreed, kissing Bucky’s jaw softly. “The growth spurt didn’t hit me that hard. We’re still about the same size. You can still hold me.”_

_Bucky turned around in Steve’s arms, working his own around Steve’s waist, the thinnest part about him now. “You’re a little taller than me,” he pointed out, leaning in for a soft kiss. “But you’ll never be stronger than me.”_

_“Oh is that so, Barnes?” Steve laughed. Bucky didn’t even have time to draw in a breath to retort before Steve was throwing him over his shoulder and running out on the field. Bucky shouted at him and laughed, clinging onto his practice jersey and wrapping his legs around Steve’s waist._

_“If you drop me, you’re coming down with me,” he warned when he felt Steve start to bend over._

_“Why would I ever drop you?” Steve asked with a sharp smirk. He loosened his grip so Bucky pitched backwards, but Bucky was serious. If he was going down, he was taking Steve with him. And when Steve couldn’t quite get his arms back under Bucky’s ass, he did just that. They collapsed in a smoke cloud of loose dirt and spent too long tangled together on the ground, laughing like they’d never been able to laugh before._

_Steve sat up and looked down at Bucky with a soft grin that he reserved especially for moments like this. It felt infinite, staring at Steve so open and raw. Bucky could crawl into time here and wrap it around himself so there was never another moment between him and Steve’s smile. “I love you so much, Buck,” Steve murmured softly, reaching out to stroke his thumb along Bucky’s lower lip slowly._

_“Til the end of the line, pal?” Bucky asked, grinning up at him, wide eyed and young and stupidly in love._

_“Til the very end,” Steve promised. He leaned down to seal his mouth over Bucky’s, fingers tangling in the orange dirt._

 

*  * *

 

"You are honestly so pathetic, Barnes," Natasha scoffed beside him. Bucky didn't answer. He stared into his whiskey like it may tell him why he got traded. Tea leaves did that, right? Maybe it was a sign he needed to switch to tea. The medical trainer for the Hydras didn’t really give a shit about new-age remedies like that, fully believing in pushing each player’s body to the max, but even he had a rule about not drinking like this.

But fuck it. Bucky was off-season now and he didn’t have any plans to report to training with the fucking Avengers any time soon.

“You’re not the only one who got traded,” she pointed out. Natasha, good little athlete that she was, had stuck to water all night after an initial shot of vodka.

"I thought we were here to commiserate together," he muttered back.

"Oh is that what this is? I thought we were just here so you could get some tail now that you've spent a straight 48 hours thinking about Steve Rogers."

"You know, for someone fucking Barton, you sure do have a lot of opinions about my bedroom habits."

"At least Barton and I remember each other's names in the morning," she shot back. "How often can you say that Barnes?"

"I think I prefer you when you call me James."

“Because I’m not pissed off at you when I call you James.”

“Yeah, that must be it,” Bucky agreed sarcastically. He threw back the rest of his drink and stood up. “I’m gonna dance. Follow me out?”

Natasha glared at him but still took his hand when he offered it out to her.

Bucky had been dancing all his life. Growing up with parents from the midwest, he spent half of his weekends at dance halls on the side of town they never went on otherwise, full of beautiful white buildings and manicured lawns and historical site designation signs.

Natasha had grown up with more than conservative and stupidly rich parents and she had been in ballet classes as soon as she was standing on her own. But Natasha was a prodigy all on her own. Anything Bucky threw at her, she learned and excelled at. They were happy together when they danced, even when Natasha took the floor angry at him.

“I’m not trying to get nailed because I’ve been thinking about Steve Rogers,” Bucky defended as they situated themselves on the dance floor. He caught the woman behind Natasha look him over and he winked at her before looking back at his friend. “I’m looking to get nailed because I haven’t gotten any since the serieses started.”

“You haven’t gotten any since August?” Natasha asked skeptically. And she was right to be skeptic. Sure, Bucky tried to stay away from sex while he was in a series mind set, but they’d played the Avengers in the second round and he’d been all pent up again.

“Steve doesn’t make me want to fuck,” he lied. A worn out argument.

“You literally tried to bone Clint for a solid season, just because he was blond and stupid.”

“Having a type doesn’t mean it’s Steve’s fault I have a libido.” Bucky watched a guy strike out with someone behind Natasha and made a mental note to keep an eye on him for a while. Until he realized the shoulder to waist ratio was what caught his eye and his shock of blond hair was cropped short and he was wearing the same cut of jeans Steve always did. He looked away with a scowl.

Natasha twisted herself in his arms as the music sped up and Bucky let his body react naturally, spinning her away and stepping aside when she spun back in, all the power and grace of two decades of ballet training with the body and force of one of the league’s greatest catchers.

He literally loved dancing with her.

He grabbed her hand when she held it out and dragged her back to his chest, leaning over backwards as she leaned in closer. He followed when she straightened and held her hands as they folded their arms over their heads. They each took two steps back, hands dragging along forearms until he had her by one hand again. He swung her behind him, felt her spin off his back and grab his other hand as she continued to spin to his front again. He grabbed her waist to stop her, and she leaned all the way back, his hand at her hip and behind her neck, until her hair hit the ground.

Bucky pulled her back up and twisted under her arms, leaning into her embrace as she held his back to her chest until he bowed out and got behind her, lifting her up long enough for one leg to hook back around his waist as she turned over in his arms. When her feet hit the floor, he lifted her again so she was nearly diagonal in the air, one leg bent and the other straight out. Beautiful and untouchable in that moment.

When he dropped her back down to the ground with the end of the song, a low voice cheered for them, appearing from the crowd and looking just like a wet dream. Bucky watched Natasha’s eyes flicker over the girl he brought with him appreciatively as she leaned into Bucky’s side.

“That was some great dancing,” the guy said. Bucky ignored his blond hair. “My sister was saying I should come ask if you could teach me to move like that,” he laughed as the girl next to him elbowed his ribs with a grin. His eyes weren’t quite the right shade of blue. “Hey, you’re Bucky Barnes, right?”

The sister scoffed next to him and Bucky wondered how many times she’d already said as much. “Yeah, that’s me. What’s your name, man?” he asked, holding out his hand.

The guy took it and let his thumb brush over the back of Bucky’s hand as he shook it. “It’s Duke. You think I could buy one of the greatest players a drink?”

Bucky could practically hear Natasha scoffing beside him. He looked like Steve. He had a dog’s name. He was at a dive bar with his sister. These were all bad signs.

“I don’t know. Nat, you think you’ll let him buy you a drink?” he asked, looking over at his friend. She snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Trust me,” Duke’s sister said, stepping over to hook her arm in Natasha’s, which made the baseball player tense, though she didn’t say anything. “Us girls would just embarrass you boys.”

Bucky looked up at Duke and tried to catalogue everything different about his face. “Yeah. I could go for a drink,” he said, reaching out for Duke’s hand again. Duke grinned, big and dumb, at him and pulled Bucky close to wrap his arms around Bucky’s waist.

“How about a dance first? Start those lessons early.”

Bucky curled his fingers into Duke’s shirt and nodded. “Yeah. A quick lesson first.”

 

*  * *

 

_Their high school had found some warped fold-out table for the signing. A table cloth that had holes in it where it hung off on their side was thrown over it, semi-proudly displaying the school name on the other side. There were a few people gathered in the cafeteria where the signing was happening. A photographer for the local newspaper. A few coaches. Steve’s ma and Bucky’s pa. Becca had skipped out on class too. Some lunch ladies were sitting in too. Whether that was because there was nothing better to do at ten in the morning, or because Steve was always extra sweet to them was unsure. And of course the rest of their team was there and a few players from Virginia, including their team captain, though he was writing an essay while he waited for the theatrics._

_Bucky glanced over at Steve and swatted his thigh under the table when he found the blond worrying at a split in his lip. “If you’re bleeding in these pictures, your ma is gonna kill you,” he warned._

_Steve nodded and reached up to scratch a hand through his hair. He tried to take a cap off first, which Bucky had been doing all morning too. The Virginia caps sat on the table in front of them but they weren’t allowed to wear them until they’d signed all their paperwork. It was all for show at this point. Steve and Bucky had been in contact with the Howling Commandos and Coach Phillips. Their scholarships were squared away and they’d even gone out to dinner with Dugan._

_“Hey, c’mere,” Bucky muttered, turning his face away from the audience. Steve leaned into his space, turning too, shoulder to elbow pressed together and their knees and temples too. They’d been sharing space as long as they’d been alive and Bucky wanted to melt into this moment. “After our parents take us out tonight and let us get a little too drunk, why don’t we beg off a hotel room and stay together?” he murmured, rubbing his hand over Steve’s thigh under the table._

_Steve looked at him, fear and eagerness equally clear in his eyes. “Buck, someone’s gonna hear you,” he hissed quickly._

_“Just relax okay? Our whole damn future is beyond this signing. We sign these papers, smile for the cameras, and we’ll be pro before you can blink too many times,” Bucky soothed. He turned his hand over without looking and Steve’s palm found his. “Ain’t got nothing else to be worried about out there. Me and you, we’re gonna conquer the whole damn world, alright?”_

_Steve took in a deep breath and nodded. “The whole damn world. Together.”_

_“Together,” Bucky promised. “Of course. Now let’s get this shit sorted and go home.”_

_“Yeah. Alright,” Steve said, not sounding entirely convinced. But then he nodded and looked up at Bucky. “Hell yeah. Take the rest of the day off and think about the future instead.”_

_The future had never been a concept that scared Bucky. It never could be. When he was seven years old, his mother had sat him down and explained that Steve might not be as strong as him, or live as long. He was sick enough, and they were close enough, that she tried to explain the concept of mortality to him without considering that he was as stubborn as Steve was. Neither of the boys had ever focused on the pain and fear of illness, only the memory of beating it, over and over._

_When they were ten and Bucky’s mother died suddenly, he didn’t find himself spiraling like, five years later, he thought he should’ve. Instead, it made it all the clearer that he was supposed to go on and do something amazing for his mother._

_And when people talked about what he was doing with his future, he never had to wonder what he was going to major in, where he was going to start his career, what school he wanted to go to. He just knew that his future was baseball and baseball always found a way to him. It found its way in the form of Steve who was usually too sick to actually play but always willing to toss a ball around or soft pitch for Bucky. It found its way in the endowment the school was given his freshmen year to repair the fields and buy new equipment. It found its way in Virginia’s coach knowing the girl, Carter, whom Steve had been chatting with on some nerd board online._

_There had never been any doubt in his mind that his future was right here. And now his future was on a baseball field in Virginia. Steve next to him through it all. What was there to fear when he knew exactly what was coming?_

_Bucky squeezed Steve’s hand and turned back around. He desperately wanted to kiss him. His mouth, his cheek, his forehead, his temple. Anywhere to let him know they were together and Steve didn’t have anything to worry about. But there were cameras and their parents and half of their friends. So he didn’t._

_“Gentlemen,” the Athletic Director for Virginia asked, looking at them with an excited smile. “Are we ready to begin?”_

_Steve and Bucky looked at each other, grins breaking out on their faces at the same time. “Yes, ma’am,” they answered together._

 

*  * *

 

“Buck, you’re literally being so pathetic,” Becca sighed from the kitchen where she had a clear view of Bucky laying lethargic across the couch while the twins slowly suffocated him as they sat on him and doodled on his chest and arms.

“Don’t use the P word in front of the girls,” Bucky mumbled, pulling a pillow over his face to hide his embarrassed blush.

“Uncle Bucky, how come you don’t have no hair on your chest?” Maggie asked.

“Papa has hair on his chest,” Anna confirmed.

“Ma says it’s cause you’re a fop.”

“Mama, what’s a fop?”

Bucky groaned under the pillow and willed himself to die on the spot. Becca had been tough love as soon as she could talk. She was always his first place of refuge but also the meanest mother fucker in his life. He didn’t remember little sisters being like that when he’d been begging for one as a little kid.

“Girls, why don’t you let Uncle Bucky wallow alone for a little bit?” Becca suggested. “Take your bikes out for a quick ride before Papa gets back.”

The twins squealed in delight and clambered off of Bucky, jarring every single internal organ he had. He tried not to react too much.

“Will you come play catch with us?”  Anna asked, pulling at Bucky’s hair gently.

“After you’re done wallowing alone,” Maggie added. Both girls giggled, though Bucky was pretty sure neither of them knew what wallowing meant.

“Yeah, I’ll play catch with you in a little bit,” Bucky agreed raggedly. Still, both girls leaning in to lay ridiculously saliva-y kisses on his cheek was enough to make him smile at them. “Go get some fresh air, you monsters.”

Once the door had shut behind them, Bucky threw the pillow to the other end of the couch and sat up with a sigh.

“When’s David gonna be back?” he asked, glancing over at his sister. She finished washing the dishes she was working on before coming to sit next to her brother. Even though they were five years apart, they were almost identical. As soon as Becca was a little taller, people were always asking if they were twins. Sometimes, it felt like their bodies forgot they weren’t twins too. They had that twin intuition on lock. Bucky had known before Becca that she was going into labor and after Steve’s ma died, Becca had called him up before he got the chance to tell anyone.

She reached out to take her brother’s hand and held it between both of her own. She could never get over how calloused it was, tanned beyond correction and sand worn. She’d played softball for the little league with Bucky and a few years in high school, but had never hardened her body like this. And Bucky had always been so meticulous about being handsome and desirable. It was almost unbelievable that his hands were like this.

“You don’t really care when David’s gonna be back. Those girls are gonna make you play catch until they want to come eat. You’re not sneaking out when he gets home.”

Bucky shrugged. “I have before.” But it was true. He was looking for a copout, a chance to go wallow somewhere else.

“Come on, talk about what’s really on your mind,” Becca proded, setting Bucky’s hand down on her knee.

“You know what’s on my mind.”

“It’s Steve again. But that’s a pretty easy guess, even without the not-twintuition. You’re always thinking about him.” She knocked her shoulder into Bucky’s and grinned at him, though it was soft, for now.

“I haven’t played with him since…” Bucky gestured to nothing at all and sighed.

“You haven’t even talked to him since everything happened. You need to sit down and have an adult conversation. You were both in a bad place after Sarah died. That’s not either of youses fault.”

“Becs, you know what he did. Yeah, we were in bad places, but I didn’t go…” Bucky’s jaw tightened, like his mouth didn’t even want to say what had happened out loud. Thank God for not-twintuition else he might never have been able to explain it to Becca in the first place.

Becca squeezed his hand. “Then you’re gonna have to decide what’s more important, Jimmy. Baseball or refusing to love Steve Rogers.”

And that wasn’t much of a fucking choice at all. Baseball had always been the one thing that could ever manage to eek by Steve sometimes in terms of Bucky’s adoration. And Bucky had never really stopped loving Steve. Sure, he hated the man more than he could put into words, but only because he had been, and still was, so ridiculously in love with him. There was nothing about Steve that Bucky didn’t love, except for that one fucking night.

“Yeah, I thought so,” Becca said, patting Bucky’s knee and standing up. Bucky groaned and threw himself back into the couch. “Come on, I never imagined a world without you two right next to each other. You remember that first Thanksgiving after? Everyone in the family asked where Steve was all day.”

“And everyone told me I was an idiot for letting him go,” Bucky added.

“Even after you tried to explain what happened. You remember Meemaw wondering if you were gonna stop playing now that you didn’t have anyone to ‘play catch’ with?”

“Remember fuckin’ Mikey having to subtly hide the Christmas gift he’d bought?” Bucky asked with a reluctant smile.

“Jerseys that had Pitcher and Catcher instead of your names,” Becca agreed with a laugh. “Steve’s 19 on pitcher and 17 on catcher for you.”

“That was so fucking embarrassing. I had to look at that in front of Dad.”

Becca laughed then, full bodied and completely Barnesian. “I still have those upstairs in a closet with all your other shit,” she admitted after a second, just about when Bucky was starting to laugh too.

“You don’t! Becs, what if the girls find them?”

“They don’t know what it means! Come on, they’re five. They’d probably end up wearing them to practice.”

The siblings stared at each other for a second before bursting into laughter. “That’s even worse, Rebecca!” Bucky laughed, doubling over to hide his face against his knees.

Becca reached over to run her fingers through his hair. “You’re gonna be fine. As soon as you get on the field with him, all of this bullshit is gonna melt away, at least while the game’s in play. Baseball’s always cured every fight you two have had before.”

Bucky looked up at her. He didn’t believe her, but he wanted to. He wanted to believe it was going to be as easy as rubbing dirt over the back of his neck and getting at it. But it had been four years. And that felt irreparable.

“Get us all tickets for the season,” Becca reminded as she moved back into the kitchen. “And go play with the girls. Dinner’s almost ready and you know if they play after they eat…”

“They’ll barf all over the yard. Yeah, I know. Just like their mother in that way.”

Becca flicked pasta off the end of the spoon at him.

 

*  * *

 

_“Hey, I can soft toss to you,” a small voice offered from behind Bucky. He looked up so quickly that the ball he was tossing up to bat by himself ended up hitting his shoulder._

_Behind him on the little league field--the major rank’s field, not the stupid minor rank’s field because Bucky was good enough for the majors, thank you very much--was a young boy who Bucky kind of recognized. They went to school together and ate lunch at the same table because the little blond didn’t have any friends and Bucky, honestly, didn’t have many either. It was tough being seven._

_Bucky dubiously looked at the oxygen tank that the kid was lugging around and the clear tubing that snaked into his nose. Evidently Steve had watched him watching and quickly yanked the breathing apparatus out. “I can! Honest! I’ll even chase some of them down for you!”_

_Bucky thought about it before shrugging. There was no one else around and...honestly, he could use a friend on the field. He tossed the ball over to the kid. “I’m Bucky,” he said._

_The kid stared at the ball like he’d never seen one, rolling it between his hands reverently. But it wasn’t weird to Bucky because Bucky pretty much did the same thing every time he got one in his hands. “I’m Steve,” the kid eventually said._

_“Cool. If you wanna soft toss, just kneel in front of me,” Bucky said. “If you wanna throw it, take my glove and go...I dunno, halfway to the mound.”_

_Steve’s eyes snapped up, all fire and determination. Bucky wondered what he’d just walked into. “I’ll pitch it from the mound.”_

_“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to soft toss,” Bucky said, shifting from foot to foot._

_“And now I’m saying I’m gonna pitch it from the mound.”_

_“Alright, alright,” Bucky conceded. He waited for Steve to get up to the mound and got himself into a ready position. Steve threw the ball and Bucky watched it sail right over the plate. It hit the warped chainlink behind the catcher’s pit and Bucky looked at it, then Steve._

_“Woah, can you do that again?” he asked, trotting after the lolling ball and tossing it back to Steve._

_Steve fumbled with the catch, but got it eventually, gearing up again and firing another one down the center of the plate._

_“Dude!” Bucky laughed, getting the ball again and throwing it back. “You’ve gotta sign up for the league. We don’t got no one who can pitch like that!”_

_Steve colored so wonderfully that Bucky could see it all the way from homeplate. “Yeah, well, why don’t you try it hit it this time instead’a just lookin’ at it?” he taunted._

_Bucky doubled down and waited for Steve to pitch again. He connected with the ball, but it went foul, bouncing around one of the ratty dugouts. Steve went after it this time and came back up._

_“That was alright. Try harder.”_

_Bucky rolled his eyes and geared up, swinging as hard as he could to send the ball well into the unkempt outfield. It disappeared in the tall grass and the boys looked at each other with equally excited looks._

_“I’ll race you,” Bucky called. Steve, the cheater, didn’t answer, only took off towards the outfield. Bucky ran after him, kicking up little clouds of orange dust. He overtook Steve easily, but got caught up in the tall grass. Steve musta had a bloodhound’s nose because he went right o the ball. Bucky waited for him to straighten out and toss the ball to Bucky, but the blond fell to the ground and Bucky heard the coughing right after._

_He ran over, getting Steve sitting up. Steve had gone ashen and couldn’t hold himself up, so Bucky grabbed his arm, hauling Steve halfway over his shoulders and hobbling with him back to the oxygen tank by the dugouts._

_“Further?” Steve asked in a strangled voice._

_“Just a little,” Bucky promised, sweat pouring from his hairline with the effort of dragging them both down the field. When he stepped over first base, he pointed down the worn path in the ground. “See this line? We’re going to the end of it, alright? You just gotta stay with me until the end of the line,” he said._

_“‘Til the end of the line,” Steve agreed, nodding weakly against Bucky’s shoulder._

_Only a few moments later, they were collapsing down against the fence. Bucky was so exhausted that his hands were shaking almost too badly to get the breathing tube back into Steve’s nose. Steve’s hand scrambled against the machine to turn the air up and they both leaned back against the fence, silent together for a few moments._

_“We...didn’t get to...the end of the line,” Steve pointed out eventually. His voice sounded raw and it hurt something deep in Bucky’s chest._

_“What?” Bucky asked, looking over at Steve and reaching up to wipe away the exertion tears that had gathered in the corner of his eyes._

_Steve pointed to the divot in front of them and then followed it all the way to homeplate, a few more feet than where they’d fallen down next to the breathing machine._

_Bucky sighed and closed his eyes. “Then I guess we gotta stay together a little longer.”_

_“Until the end of the line?” Steve asked. At least this time Bucky could hear a smile in his small voice._

_“Yeah, ‘till the end of the line,” he confirmed. He held out his fist, still shaking, and Steve knocked his knuckles against Bucky’s gently._


	2. And He Grits His Teeth and He Tries It Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from my mom's favorite baseball song, [The Greatest](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ATQ5Tab3eXY) (It makes me cry every time I listen to it, so I don't that much)

**Queering the Record**

By: Rozie Kenna

Avengers Left and Right Fielders, Riley Wiatrek and Sam Wilson, announced their engagement after the World Series wrapped up and the celebrations died down, giving the BML even more reason to celebrate. 

But how did we get to this point as a sport and community that we could celebrate two men’s engagement? Where was the shift in the BML’s history that made it one of the queerest sports on the market? Per player, the BML has the most ‘out’ players between any major US sport, and many international teams and programs. And it’s not only the players. Mar-Vells’ head coach, Wendy Lawson, was a pioneering force in the softball league when she publicly and continually leaned into the derogatory “softball lesbian” stereotype. Avenger’s owner, Tony Stark, has been openly pansexual since before the team was a household name.

Was it a reaction to Asgardian Captain, Thor Odinson, vehemently defending his brother’s gender fluidity? By far, that was the most controversial and difficult conversation in the league and having Odison, as a kind of paragon, defend his brother so fiercely quelled a bit of the reluctance to accept gender nonconformity in the league.

Was it the Mar-Vells’ fight for gender equality in the league that loosened up fans to the idea of breaking gender roles and sexuality? Or maybe it was getting to watch Wiatrek and Wilson’s own love story unfold over the last four years that they’ve been playing together that immersed the fans in a boiling pot of queerness.

While I would say many strides have been made by Laufeyson and Odinson, the Mar-Vells, and W^2, there was someone before any of them.

Rogers and Barnes’ contentious relationship has been in the media’s eye since their college days when they were high school sweethearts too good to ignore. If college baseball fans wanted to watch a good game or a national series, they had to watch Rogers and Barnes, who never hid their PDA. If you wanted to read a baseball analysis after their senior year, you had to hear about their nasty split, no matter what the article had originally been about. And now again, many writers can’t help but turn away from stats and figures to gossip about the on-field tension that will follow the young lovers now that they’re on a team together again.

Rogers and Barnes normalized same-sex relationships in the baseball community in a stubborn, insistent way that no one before them really had to chance to, and I don’t think they even realized it. Their love story spans back two decades and often times it seemed like they barely noticed they were breaking ground. They were just playing ball together, like any other best friends.

I could turn now and talk about rumors swirling about the Avengers asking for rookie pitcher Clint Barton, the infamous sidewinder from the Hydras, when “Captain America” is still sitting on the Avengers team with his own skillful pitching. Or if Barnes’ leadership next to Rogers’ will create a schism in the team. I could discuss Natasha Romanov’s new opportunity to catch a pitcher who has some of the best heat in the league. Hell, I could even ask what Fury was thinking with this trade, since Rumlow was one of the stronger pieces on the board in most games.

But, like many writers before me, I’d like to hesitate a moment on the relationship that will be in the news all season and consider what it has already done for the league, for guys like Wilson and Wiatrek, or coaches like Lawson. Regardless of their performance this season, or if that romance is rekindled, Barnes and Rogers have already changed the game and that’s worth talking about.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

“James Barnes, welcome to the Stark-Avengers Stadium,” Coach Fury greeted, cool as he ever was on TV. Bucky tried not to stare at his eyepatch. Supposedly it was an errant ball from back in his in-fielding days, and he still made the play afterwards. Someone else said he got hit by a pissed off batter when he was catching. Other people said he stopped a mugging. Bucky figured it was probably a cat.

“Named after my father,” Tony Stark piped up suddenly. “Not me. I’d much rather be on the Avengers than their owner.”

Bucky bit back that Stark was already a loser and so halfway to being an Avenger. It wasn’t fair to the other Avengers. It was barely fair to Stark. Bucky just had a thing against all the billionaires that lived fifteen minutes away from the same spot Steve and him were struggling to keep their families fed most nights.

Steve Rogers, on Fury’s other side, hadn’t said anything. They hadn’t even shook hands. He was staring at Stark like he could burn a hole in the side of his head if he tried hard enough. Well, hell. If Steve didn’t want Stark talking to him, Bucky was just going to have to make it happen.

“Well, owners fucking around with their players always tests well. Why don’t you train with the team for a while and go to open tryouts?” Bucky suggested.

“Then who would so masterfully organize this team and their events?” Tony lamented dramatically. But Bucky could tell he was pleased with Bucky’s answer.

“Is that what you do?” Fury asked with a snort.

Bucky looked back to Steve, like he always did when they were close like this. “Why did you trade Barton too? You’ve already got yourself an ace pitcher, don’t you?”

Steve glared right back at him, jaw tight and angry, all the same righteous fury he had been full of as long as Bucky had known him. Bucky continued the stare down, but it was Fury and Stark’s silence that gave him his answer.

“Oh my God, you hurt yourself, didn’t you?”

“It’s a minor tear in his shoulder,” Fury answered cooly. Obviously this was not something he expected to hash out in Bucky’s onboarding, but Bucky didn’t give a shit. “The doctors have said with some rest and rehab, he’ll be back up and running before spring training is done. But until then--”

“You need a pitcher. And what a better time to introduce a new player than spring training when no one thinks anything is wrong,” Bucky finished. He hadn’t looked away from Steve, but Steve’s gaze hadn’t faltered either. “I kept you in one piece for almost twenty years and you went and blew it in four.”

“Pierce pumped you full of drugs until you passed out in the middle of a game because of a hurt arm,” Steve answered, cold and hard and nothing like they used to talk to each other.

Fuck, it was the first words they’d exchanged in four years.

“This shit is not gonna follow you onto the field,” Fury ordered. And it was definitely an order.

“No, sir,” Bucky agreed, glaring at Steve still. “The game means too much to me.”

“Come on, let’s show you the amenities we have for you at the stadium,” Stark said quickly, putting himself between Bucky’s line of sight and Steve’s body. “The team’s in the weightroom and I’m sure you want to get back to Barton and Romanov so you can gossip about how their on-boarding went.”

Bucky stood and looked over at Fury. “Why are you putting together such a new team? It’s me, Barton, Romanov, and there’s a few other slots open on your roster. Is it true Thor Odinson is trading in?”

“Thor was an all-star player with nowhere to land,” Fury said with a shrug. “We gave him a soft place to hit the ground. Several of the Asgardians are finding spots in other teams.”

“Is it true an African team is joining in a international space now that the Asgardians are out?”

“It’s still up in the air. How did you even hear about that?”

“If you think Karpov can exist without me, you’re sorely mistaken. Someone had to translate his emails for him.”

Stark snorted and Fury threw a stress ball at the back of his head. While Stark was belly aching, Fury got up and shed his signature coat. Bucky wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Coach Fury’s arms, but holy hell. He knew he’d looked up to the man like crazy in high school when he was still just Nick Fury, in-fielder, but damn.

“You two, follow me,” he ordered. Stark was already out the door which meant Bucky had to shoulder in next to Steve as they ambled down the hallway. Bucky really tried to pay attention to what Stark was saying, but it was hard when his knuckles kept brushing Steve’s and his body kept getting just as excited and butterfly-y as it had in middle school. Steve didn’t say anything and he didn’t have much room to move away from Bucky, so Bucky wasn’t counting anything as a win yet.

The Avengers’ weight room didn’t look anything like the Hydras’. Then again, Bucky was figuring nothing else in the whole league was as uniform and sterile as anything the Hydras had. This was only a little nicer than Virginia’s weight room had been, but walking into the room and suddenly being surrounded by the most mismatched team in the league was more familiar than anything had been in half a decade. The Avengers weren’t remotely close to the Howlies, but they were better than how Bucky felt around the Hydras. Sure, at least the Hydras won games and Bucky got popular, famous, rich. But there was something about walking into a room and knowing the people around him supported more than just themselves. Bucky barely knew any of the Avengers, but he felt that immediately.

“Barnes!” Clint called out, jumping up from the bench press he was cranking out reps on.

Bucky grinned at him and crossed over to the station he was using to wrap his arms around the man, hitting his back as Clint hit his. “Glad you didn’t get lost, Barton,” he greeted.

“Cap,” Barton said, nodding at Steve as the other man slowly made his way over. “It’s really so cool to be working with you. I can’t wait to see you two actually play together in real life.”

“You weren’t even on the field during the last Avengers/Hydra game, were you?” Steve asked. “You’d hurt your knee sliding into third, right?”

Clint nodded. “Yeah, they had me all wrapped up and sitting pretty in my travel clothes.”

“You’re never pretty, Barton.” Bucky mussed Clint’s hair and caught Barton as he leapt at Bucky in a half hearted attempt to tackle him down.

“How’re you liking the team so far?” Steve asked, looking steadily at Barton and not even a little bit at Bucky.

“Y’all are great! Sam and I are already bonding over our bird names.”

“Sam’s got a bird name?” Bucky asked.

“Ha, yeah, he’s called the Falcon,” Clint said with a nod.

“It’s a whole story. Hang on. Sam!” Steve called, waving a handsome black guy over. Bucky had kept an eye on Sam throughout the years, but Hydra hadn’t been interested in him, so Bucky didn’t put too much effort into it.

He was trying not to put too much effort into the hot blond guy sitting up and watching Sam leave with a careful gaze, one eye on Bucky and Clint. God, Bucky really had a terrible type.

“Hey, man. What’s up?” Sam asked, holding his fist out for Steve to knock against lightly. 

“Tell our new teammates why you’re called the Falcon,” Steve prompted, gesturing to the ex-Hydra players.

“Ha, uh, it’s from back in high school. Some school paper said that I looked like I could fly on the field. Which was only ‘cause there weren’t enough guys goin’ out for the team, so we had a bunch of fillers to make a roster. Riles and I played left and right fields and just had a body in centerfield and told him not to chase after anything. His job was to get out of our way. So we had a lot of ground to cover. And I guess I was just always good at finding the ball in the sky, no matter how bright the sun was or where the lights were,” Sam explained with a shrug. “So the paper called me a falcon and it stuck.”

He looked at Clint and then at Bucky before holding out his hand. “Sam Wilson. Glad to have you on the team. You think you’re gonna sink in before spring training?”

It was fucking November. “Well, I guess that’s what spring training is for anyway, right?” Bucky said. “If I’m not ready, I’ll get there pretty fucking fast.”

“Listen, I know there’s a bunch of beef here,” Clint piped up, gesturing between Steve and Bucky, “but trust me; nothing gets between Bucky and baseball.”

Sam studied Bucky before nodding. “It better not. This is the season we’re gonna blow the whole league out of the water,” he said. “And you’re a part of that, whether you’re happy about it or not.”

Bucky stared back at Sam before shrugging. “You get what you work for. Work with me and I’ll make sure your team goes all the way this year.”

“ _ Our _ team,” Steve growled.

“Baseball’s always been a team sport. You try to carry a team on your shoulders and you’re gonna tear something.” Sam reached out to knock his fist against Bucky’s bad arm before turning to head back to his weight station. Bucky watched the blonde--Riley W-something--stand and reach for Sam’s shirt to pull him close, whispering in Sam’s ear.

“They’re getting married after next season,” Clint said.

“They’re so in love, it’s disgusting,” Steve agreed.

“A distraction?” Bucky asked warily.

“Not half as much as we were,” Steve answered too quickly to have stopped himself. Bucky glanced up and saw the familiar blush racing over his ears and down his neck.

“We got the job done,” Bucky said with a shrug.

Steve took a moment to shake himself out of whatever dirty thoughts he was remembering and looked cooly at Bucky. “Run a workout. Get to know the team. We’ll have some field days later. I’ll add you to the group chat.”

“Already getting those digits back!” Clint sing-songed, knocking his hip against Bucky’s. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Buddy, you got added to the same list and have my number too,” Steve reminded. A wry smile cut across his lips and suddenly Bucky ached to be back in their freshman dorm, window pried open so they could stare at the practice field down below, candy cigarettes in their mouth as they pretended to have the life everyone else did.

“Don’t be late to practice.”

“On time is late,” Bucky reminded Steve, finishing they little chant they’d had as teenagers. Both their mothers had always harped on them that fifteen minutes early was on time. For practice, it really was. Steve raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as he walked away.

“I mean…” Clint said slowly after the door shut behind the team captain, “that could have gone a lot worse, right?”

Bucky stared at the shut door for a moment. “Yeah. I guess.” They were both still alive, so that was something. “Come on, come help me stretch out this arm properly.”

He moved to a resistance machine, loading up weights before letting Clint strap a belt around his waist. He gave the machine an experimental tug and nodded. “Alright, go for it,” he said, waiting for Clint to hold his hips in place. He pulled the machine all the down down and slowly let it back up.

It only took a few reps for his arm to start burning, for his hips to start stuttering sideways to relieve some of the tension. Clint righted him.

“You know, all the guys think you’re gonna hook up again before the season starts,” he offered. It was definitely an attempt to distract Bucky. Clint never talked about his bench bets with anyone, especially not the people it concerned.

“Don’t start that shit again.”

“They started it!”

“You haven’t even had a chance to sit on the bench yet. How can you possibly have a pool going yet?”

“Pool? Betting pool?” someone asked suddenly. Bucky slowly lowered the weights and looked around until a head was popping up in front of him.

“Y’know, I’m something of a gambler myself,” the man said. Bucky scowled at him and pushed him back a step. “They call me deadpool, ‘cause I win so easily.”

“Not the point of a deadpool,” Bucky grunted as he started working his arm again.

“Name’s Wade Wilson,” the man greeted, holding out his hand.

“There’s two Wilsons on this team?” Clint asked.

“I’d be offended, but I haven’t been on the field in a while. Been in the hospital.” He gestured up to his scarred face. “But I’m done rehabbing and I’m ready to start playing.”

“Fury kept you on even though you couldn’t play?” Clint asked dubiously.

Wilson shrugged. “More generous than he looks. Or sounds. Dude talks and sounds like the meanest motherfu-”

“Wilson!” someone shouted. Wade ducked in time for a practice ball to go sailing over his head.

“I lied. That’s the meanest motherfucker I’ve ever heard,” Wilson amended.

A hulking man stalked over the rubber mats and came to stop in front of the resistance machine. With a resigned sigh, Bucky let the weights fall again.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, unimpressed.

“Dude!” Clint hissed, slapping the back of his hand against Bucky’s elbow. “Dude!” he directed at the guy standing in front of them. “You’re a fucking legend!” He looked to Bucky again. “Dude! It’s Frank Castle.”

“Marine Baseball, Frank Castle?” Bucky asked. He’d heard the name, read the stats, but he didn’t ever watch the military games. Military players rarely ever got drafted into the league and they weren’t a real concern of Bucky’s until all-star games. And Bucky had managed to be hurt or out of town for every all-star game in his four years.

“Dude, he’s been playing on the Defenders for a year and a half now!” Clint said, aghast that Bucky hadn’t kept up. “Fury recruited a bunch of the minor league stars for this team.”

“I can speak for my fucking self, Barton,” Castle snapped.

“Yeah, so can your record. What have you done since your Marine Baseball days? They took you out of the infield when you played for the Defenders, didn’t they? And your batting average went to shit.”

He felt Clint lean in close on his back to hiss. “Why are you picking a fight with him? Dude, don’t you know--”

Bucky elbowed him and made him back off. Before either Castle or Barnes could get ready to go for the neck with their teeth, a guy even bigger than Castle found his way over, pushing Wilson back to the station he’d come from and sending Castle on his way too without so much as a word.

“Hey, Barnes. Barton.” And Clint was definitely an afterthought. “Luke Cage. Word of advice? Don’t come looking for a fight on your first day. It ain’t gonna get you anywhere.”

“What’s with the yellow, big guy?” Bucky asked instead.

Without pausing, Cage shrugged and said, “It brings out my eyes.” Bucky snorted and turned to hide his grin against his shoulder. “Honest, you should try it. Us guys with brown eyes gotta look out for each other with all these blue-eyed assholes walking around.”

“God, Rogers’ eyes are so pretty,” Clint agreed with a sigh.

“Clint, your eyes literally get you confused for a girl all the time,” Bucky pointed out.

Clint beamed at him. “Thanks, man. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.”

Cage held out his fist and Bucky glanced at him before knocking his own into it. “I’m just trying to keep your head attached to your shoulders. You don’t gotta fight every player on this team. You’re not a Hydra anymore.”

Bucky worked his jaw a little bit before he nodded. “Yeah, I know that.” It was just hard to relax after four years of being on guard, of building up an instant hatred for everyone around him and everyone he’d played against.

“Good, try to remember it. And, hey, our physician is one of the best in the league. You should have him look at that arm. I don’t think it healed right.”

Luke Cage had never been publicly injured, despite working ten times harder than everyone around him and putting himself in the middle of every field brawl to break it up. But the way he brought his hand up to rub at his shoulder made Bucky wonder how true his ‘bulletproof man’ moniker really was.

“Yeah, it’s Dr. Banner, right? He’s notorious,” Bucky agreed. Friends, not enemies. No fights. No matter how much he wanted to yell and scream and kick things over for someone noticing how bad his arm was.

“C’mere real quick,” Cage said, gesturing to Bucky. Bucky stepped over the front of the resistance machine and tried not to jump when Cage suddenly had his hands on either side of his shoulder.

“I don’t think it’s anything to do with alignment or pop--” Bucky began before shouting and jumping back when Cage suddenly yanked on his arm and three loud pops followed.

“What the hell, man?” Bucky groaned, bringing his hand up to his shoulder, though he couldn’t quite stop himself from slowly rotating his arm and gasping as the sore movement that followed after. “Holy shit.”

“It’s ‘cause once you get injured, you slowly stop letting yourself move and stretch properly. You tense the muscles all the time and they kink up worse and worse. You still need to go see Banner,” Cage explained.

“Dude, you are so cool,” Barton sighed. Bucky elbowed him.

“Thanks, man. Let’s see if I can lift more than twenty pounds now.” He gave Cage a tight smile and Cage gave a half-hearted salute back, an easy grin curling at his lips.

“Anytime, Barnes. Magic hands,” he said, wiggling his fingers.

“I thought that only applied to you snatching a speeding ball out of the field of play.”

“Nah, I use the same hands for everything.” He held out his fist again and Bucky knocked his knuckles into Cage’s again too.

When he walked away, Bucky experimentally tugged at the resistance weights again and nearly gasped at how easily he could move and lift the weights.

“Damn, Barnes,” Barton whistled lowly. “I think we’re back in business. But you can’t get on the mound again. Promise me you ain’t gonna kick me off my throne.”

“I never wanted to be a pitcher. That was a fluke from one series while Stevie rested up.”

“Stevie, huh?” Barton started to tease. He was cut off by the door banging open again and Fury stalking back in. Behind him, the most beautiful man Bucky had ever seen strolled side by side with Stark.

Bucky knew Thor Odinson tangentially. They only played the Asgardians twice a year and one of those times was in pre-season when Karpov was sending the new guys out to the slaughter. On top of that, Odinson was a first baseman and Bucky didn’t spend a lot of time on first. He was always stealing to second. And good fucking luck getting Odinson to stay on a bag. If he hadn’t knocked the ball into the next county, he was rounding over them like someone had set his perfect fucking hair on fire.

All of that to say, Bucky hadn’t ever really gotten a good look at the man in real life. And boy was it doing all sorts of things to him right now.

“Holy shit.”

Barton groaned. “Why are there so many blonds on this team? Dude? No.” He swatted at Bucky’s stomach, but Bucky was definitely not paying attention.

“Thor!” Steve called, grinning wide and too friendly for Bucky’s taste. The two men crossed to each other and clasped forearms like some damn gladiators only a few centuries out of place.

“Rogers! It’s good to see you on my side. You are a worthy opponent on the mound.”

“Ah, shuddup, you ain’t never struck out on me,” Steve answered. He clapped Thor’s shoulder and let the bigger man--seriously who was bigger than Steve? Well, besides Castle and Cage, apparently--pull him into a hug.

“Stop staring, you’re getting weird,” Barton warned. But damn if this wasn’t some kind of wet dream from his college days. 

Suddenly Thor looked up like he could read Bucky’s mind. “And James Barnes!” Then he was walking, striding, trotting, galloping over. His legs were too damn long and powerful to decide how quickly he was making his way over as Bucky’s brain turned to sludge.

“It is an honor to play next to you. You are a fine player and an important role model. You are the reason my brother was convinced to continue playing.”

Bucky blinked at the man standing before him and tried not to think about viking smut. There was definitely a huge dick under those sweatpants and they were so close Bucky would definitely be able to tell, but he couldn’t look down.

“Uh, thanks man? I mean… I didn’t do nothing as hard as Laufeyson did.” Loki wasn’t the best ball player in the league but he was fast and wily and, apparently like Bucky, his presence was enough to make waves, just for being who they were out loud.

“Nonsense. Both of you are heroes to lots of the young ones watching us.”

“And that hair isn’t?” Bucky asked.

Thor laughed, though Bucky’s broken brain hadn’t been joking. “Your hair would give mine a run for its money.”

Clint groaned off to the side and slapped his palm against his face.

“Oh. I have long hair,” Bucky remembered suddenly. It was only eight years on with it.

“I will let you get back to your workout,” Thor said, bringing a large hand up to Bucky’s shoulder and causing goosebumps to erupt over his skin. “I look forward to working with you next to me on the field.”

Bucky nodded mutely and barely managed to reciprocate Thor’s bright grin before the Norwegian was leaving.

“Oh my God, dude, you got laid, like, a week ago. How are you still so crazy in the sex head?” Clint groaned as he knocked out a few reps on Bucky’s weight setting. Across the weightroom, Steve caught his eye. There was something calculating in his gaze. Not angry, but not the immediate grin that used to meet Bucky with the Howlies.

Bucky let out a breath and looked around the room. This was an entirely different program. It was going to be a hell of a learning curve. But so were the Hydras and at least this one didn’t seem like it would be cruel. Just not half as successful as the Hydras program had been.

Someone turned on bass heavy music about ‘starting a riot’ and Wade, Clint, and two guys Bucky hadn’t met yet began dancing terribly to it. The Avengers won less games than the Hydras, but Bucky thought maybe he could live with that.

 

*  * *

 

The sun was beating down on Stark Field a month before spring training. Coming up out of the dugout, Bucky squinted right at it in the clear blue sky. The February air was still stingingly cold against his cheeks, but it felt like baseball. God knew how the warm weather would go to his head by June.

As everyone took places for drills, Bucky went over to the batter’s box. He took a knee and dug up a handful of dirt to rub over the back of his neck, eyes closed as he focused on the game and what he had to do in the practice. This dirt was softer than the Zola Stadium. Logically, Bucky knew that. There, the ground was harder, the dirt mostly finely cut rock. The most players Hydra could take out with their field, the less work they had to do during the game.

Bucky would still bleed in this dirt, but not half as much as he did with the Hydras.

He tugged the rest of the dirt through his hair and stood up, shaking his shirt out before retucking it and jogging off to the infield drills.

“Done playing in the dirt, Barnes?” Natasha asked with a smirk before she was firing a ball at him. Intentionally, it took a bad bounce and Bucky caught it on the come up before shooting it right back at her. “Use two hands, show off!”

Bucky shrugged, grinned, and moved to the back of the drill line.

Drills had been as common place in his life as breathing. His dad had him in little league before he could even hold the bat upright. But Bucky took to the sport and was usually the only kid paying attention during drills for the first three years he played. Bad bounce drills, pop flies, trick plays, double plays, third out plays, relays, and just playing catch were in his blood. He could do them in his sleep and with his eyes closed. 

Working with Natasha made it even better. They always had each other on lock. Natasha was the only person who had never beaned Bucky right in the face with a bad throw. And some days it felt like she really tried to.

Off to the side, Barton and Steve tossed a ball back and forth and Bucky was not the only distracted one. Natasha would claim it was because she needed to know what her pitchers were doing, as the catcher. Bucky knew it was because she was always way too interested in what Barton was doing. And Bucky hadn’t been close enough to watch Steve slowly warm up to the game in a disgustingly slow and sensual way, like he would in the bedroom.

They’d had to arrive to games an hour before everyone else and toss around and stretch just so Steve might be on time with everyone else during the rest of the warm up. Bucky never left the game, even after the lights had dimmed. Steve had to sink back into a hot bath when he stepped on the field.

So Bucky wasn’t surprised that it took over an hour of drills to send everyone to the field for some batting and running practice. Bucky  _ was  _ a little surprised to see Steve take the mound with Clint getting ready to swing. Bucky watched Steve stretch out his arm slowly, forgoing any warm up before there were batters taking the plate. First was a guy who everyone said never played unless they were really down players. He was mostly team morale. When he needed to, he could come in clutch, but only when he really needed to.

“Aw, c’mon, Lang,” Riley called from where he was bouncing around right field like an excited puppy. “Make me work for it.”

Lang jokingly pointed his bat towards Riley as he finished digging his feet into the loose dirt around the plate. Steve glanced at Thor on first and a kid called Danny on second before firing a pitch down the center of the plate. Lang had to watch it go past, if he even saw it at all.

“Oh, come on! You don’t pitch for real when you’re pitching to your own team!” he whined up at Steve. Steve grinned at him and Bucky had to critically inspect the dirt under him to avoid his heart taking over logical control of his brain.

The next pitch was slower and Lang knocked it over Steve’s head, but Danny was there to catch it after a short jog up. He tossed it over to Luke on third, who flipped it to Bucky, who finished it off by throwing it to Thor. Thor tossed it back to Steve and beat his hand in the palm of his glove.

“Alright guys, let’s go!” he shouted as Lang tagged out with Frank in center field. Wade came up and swung the bat a few times. When Steve fired off another fast ball, Wade spun around dramatically with a swing that was far too strong for missing the ball entirely.

“You give us a bad name, Wilson,” Sam called. Bucky glanced over his shoulder and found the man shaking his head.

“I’m comin’ out there next,” Wade threatened lightly. “We’ll see how well you do with him.”

“Yeah, yeah, you keep sayin’ it’s an everyone problem. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Steve lobbed another one down the middle but Wade missed it too, bat falling out of his hand halfway across the plate. Bucky saw Natasha glance up at the man. He wondered if she said anything to prompt him shaking his head. He missed the next pitch too and Natasha stood up to throw the ball back to Steve and then tugged off her helmet.

“You’re fast right?” she asked.

“Too fast, if you ask my girlfriend,” Wade agreed with a sharp grin.

“Don’t admit that,” she said, a confused look on her face as she shook her head. “I’m gonna have Wade take the base so we can get some throwdown practice.”

“Hoedowns?” Wade asked before scampering down to first with the look Natasha gave him.

Frank came up and looked imposing as fuck crowded in on the plate. He was already a big guy, but he really was leaving no room for Steve to pitch inside without flat out hitting Castle. If it phased Steve at all, he didn’t show it. Not even when Castle hit the fastball right to the outfield.

Bucky got to see the “falcons” in action. Scott got out of the way and suddenly Sam and Riley were both at centerfield before the ball was even on its downward arc.

“Call off,” Sam yelled and Riley effortlessly moved behind Sam, letting Sam slide right into the catch. He fired it down to Bucky, who was standing over second in case Wade decided to tag up and run, but he made the wise decision not to. 

Frank traded back out with Scott and Scott sent Luke in to bat from third. Clint came up to the plate and both him and Natasha looked over at Bucky. Which really should’ve been Steve’s first clue. But he didn’t know the new players well enough yet to catch their non-verbal cues with each other. He’d learn them real fast.

Clint didn’t even lift his bat off his shoulder on the fast ball, but Bucky was over on second as Wade dashed over too.

“Running!” Natasha shouted and then did not hesitate, did not wait for Steve to duck, before she was popping up and throwing the ball right at Bucky on second. Steve hit the ground hard, falling backwards as the ball sailed right where his head had been. Bucky made the tag and Wade jumped up.

“You’re cheaters! You planned that!” he accused, though it was in that way of his that kept a laugh right under his voice.

“You could have killed me!” Steve accused as he got back to his feet, dusting his pants off.

Natasha scoffed. “It would’ve knocked you out at most. Next time I say running, duck. Isn’t that, like, a baseball rule?”

“Not here it’s not!”

And it was true. Bucky had never used it before the Hydras. Granted, the Hydras were his first major league team, but still. Maybe it really was just a Natasha thing.

“Well, now you know,” Natasha said with a shrug. She was just toying with him, seeing if he’d rise to the bait or not, pulling at his captaincy. Steve stared at her before nodding.

“Alright. We’ll sit down and talk about what your signals and signs are.”

“They’re not hard to learn,” Clint promised. “Pretty intuitive if it’s your turn with the brain cell.”

“Oh, good, you know we only have three collective ones for the whole team. Cage keeps two of them at all times,” Wade said.

“I resent that,” Riley called. Bucky wasn’t even sure how he heard that.

“You’re out,” Bucky reminded him. They were both still standing on the bag and Wade crossed his arms.

“Scary lady said I got to run,” he pointed out. Bucky deferred to Natasha who just shrugged.

“Let him keep running,” she said. “He’ll be the first guy to ever get out four times with one at bat.”

“You’re very mean on top of being scary,” Wade called back.

Natasha waved her free hand and squatted back down. Bucky jogged over to his spot again. Steve threw a wicked slider, but Clint was a sidewinder and knew a slider when one was coming at his knees. He sat back and dropped his hands low. He swung a deep arc and the ball went right by Steve’s knees, and Thor’s, and Danny’s, hitting the grass and rolling to a stop well before Riley was expecting.

Danny got to the ball before Riley did and threw it in, keeping Wade on third as Clint finished his jog to second.

“You shouldn’t ever bet against me, Nat. Gonna prove you wrong every time,” Clint teased, pulling off his wrist guard and ducking it into his back pocket.

“Yeah, yeah, keep talking,” she shouted back, grinning before she pulled the mask back over her face.

Luke came up and he grinned wolfishly at Steve who sighed, though he looked happy too. Steve turned around and motioned for the outfield to move back. It didn’t help. Luke cracked the first pitch out into the stands.

“I’ll get it!” Wade called as he stepped on home plate.

“Nope, you’re going on first,” Steve said, jogging into the dugout with Wade. “Clint, take over the mound.” Clint came in and then Luke and everyone re-situated. Danny went in to bat, along with Thor as Wade took first and Steve took second. Clint threw out a few warm up pitches and the batting continued until Sam came out and left Scott in the outfield.

“Go bat, man,” he said, nudging his shoulder against Bucky’s.

Bucky liked Sam. A lot. He was irritating as all hell, but he was warm and trustworthy. After they’d gotten over Sam’s own hatred of the Hydras and his irritance at Bucky for always making him run all over the damn place when Bucky was up to bat, and when Bucky maybe-kind-of-on-purpose threw a ball at Sam’s ankles for an out  _ one time _ , Sam and Bucky had warmed up to each other by bitching about Steve and trying to figure out how far apart they could stand while playing catch. Even though they didn’t lift the same, they paired up in the weight room fifty percent of the time, when Bucky wasn’t working with Luke--who did lift as much as Bucky--and Sam wasn’t paired up with his fiance. 

“You don’t play short,” Bucky said. 

“ Yeah, neither does anyone else. Brock kept it to himself. But I think I can manage for a few batters,” Sam promised. He winked and got ready to field for Riley. “Better get out of the way. He always drives it right over here. See how he stand with his left leg back?”

“Means it comes right out here,” Bucky said, glove up under his armpit.

“Bet,” Sam said, knocking his glove against Bucky’s arm. Bucky moved out of the way, standing in the coach’s box on the third baseline. Sure enough, on the first pitch out, Riley sent it right to Sam. Sam wasn’t half as graceful as Bucky was in the position, but he got his body in front of the ball and made the play at first.

He looked back to Bucky and grinned, big and wide before turning his hat backwards so Riley could see him stick his tongue out at him.

“You better watch it, Wilson!” Riley called out, moving back to first base when Steve told him to. “I’m gonna get over there and spill all your secrets too.”

“Ah, you wouldn’t dare. I know what panties you like to wear.”

“Fuck you, Wilson!”

“Later if you’re lucky, Wiatrek!”

Bucky wondered if they did threesomes before he quickly shook the thought out of his head. God, he really had to work through that blond thing. It was getting dangerous. He jogged behind Natasha as Steve shook himself out at the plate.

“You better choke up on the bat,” Bucky warned over his shoulder, not looking back at Steve. He wasn’t sure  he could handle seeing Steve in that ridiculously powerful pose he always took up at the plate. “You’re a lefty. He’ll pitch it inside to you. He always does.”

Natasha snorted and Bucky couldn’t help himself. He turned to watch Steve swing. Steve was born to bat. Even when he’d been tiny and weak, he could swing the bat like he invented the move. And now, with a nasty fast slider coming in over the plate, Steve looked like a god. He dropped his hands just a little—choked too high—and caught the ball parallel to his back thigh. Always, Steve could keep the most contact with the ball, swinging all the way through until the ball went sailing right over right field, over the short practice fence, and over the bleachers that were stacked up there.

A few of the guys hollered and called at him and Steve blushed just as pretty as he ever had every damn time he sent a ball into the next county. Someone tossed another ball to Clint and Steve jogged up to the mound to take it instead.

“Let’s go, Barnes,” he said, nodding to the plate.

Bucky swallowed and glanced at Steve’s practice bat. They used to be able to exchange bats all the time, grew up sharing one. It had been so long and they’d been on such vastly different paths. But Bucky grabbed the bat anyway, testing its weight in his hands. Just the same as it ever wars. It was a little longer than his real bat, but for practice it would do. He took a swing and then another, getting used to the way he had to drop his hands, the pull on his shoulders.

“Let’s see what you can do, Rogers,” he called, stepping into the box.

“You’re not gonna pray?” Natasha teased below him.

“It’s just practice and I don’t think prayer’s gonna help.”

Because Bucky knew Steve must be pissed at him too. They’d barely exchanged ten words since they’d started practicing this year and even fewer in the four years before. Steve had no damn right to be pissed at Bucky because this was all Steve’s fucking fault, but Bucky was sure Steve would find a way to blame him anyway.

Sure enough, Bucky didn’t even see the first pitch go down the plate, just heard the pop in Nat’s glove. He was more prepared for the second one, until it cut away in a nasty curve.

“This is why we all practice,” Steve called out. “Don’t let our egos get to our heads.”

Bucky would fucking show him ego.

Sure, this was cheating. Bucky had never done it while they were professional, but he’d do it now. Steve had the most minute tell about which pitch he was going to use. No one else had every figured it out in all of their little league games, the select tournaments, high school, college, or in the BML. But Bucky knew.

A double tap on the ball for a knuckle. Shaking his arm out for a curve. Licking his lips for a slider. And before a fast ball, Steve closed his eyes and wound up blind.

Still, his eyes were open in time to watch Bucky connect with the ball hard enough that it shook his bones. He sent it all the way to the back wall. By the time Castle had it thrown in, Bucky was on second and eyeing third. He didn’t go for it, but he probably could have made it in a game.

“What was that about ego, Rogers?” he asked, holding a hand up to his ear.

“I musta learned it from you,” Steve answered, but there was a smile on his lip that he was trying to hide by fidgeting with his hat. Bucky knew those tells all the same too.


	3. The Way Baseball Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from [good old Merle Haggard](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9JNqL8Drt3E) (hint, this is actually a love song)
> 
> Finally, baseball!

**An Interview with the League’s Bad-Boy— Brock Rumlow**

By: Tiago Kinsler

 

Recently I got the chance to sit down with the name on everyone’s lips this pre-season. After an explosive Spring Training, Brock Rumlow has already been touted as a probable MVP by the time the Series rolls around. It feels like the league hasn’t been so excited about a player so early since Bucky Barnes was drafted in four years ago. I asked him about the comparisons.

TK: Does being compared to Barnes while being so much more experienced frustrate or excite you?

BR: I honestly don’t read reports that mention Barnes. [Laughs] He’s never been a concern of mine.

TK: You’re not saying that you didn’t worry about Barnes when you came up against the Hydras previously.

BR: Why would I? I played with Rogers. Nothing could turn Barnes’ arm and brain off like seeing that...guy.

TK: Your tumultuous relationship with Steve Rogers has been plenty of gossip fodder too. What is it between you guys?

BR: Look, I ain’t gonna bullshit you, especially now that we’re away from each other. Rogers and I never got along. We’re just different guys, different ball players. He don’t respect me and so I turned it back on him. Simple as that. Barnes and Rogers suffer from the same dumbass disease. The League has told them they’re special for years and it doesn’t leave a lot of room for the rest of us when it comes to talent reports. They ain’t earned it and it pisses me off.

TK: So you aren’t worried about hitting the Avengers this year, now that they’re together again?

BR: [Shakes his head] There’s no reason to be. The Avengers are a mediocre team to begin with. I mean, I know analysts would agree with me, losing me hurt the Avengers in a way that we’re all gonna see very soon. They’re not a strong team. They’re just not. Powerful guys, yeah. But very niche strengths and no one works together properly. Rogers isn’t a great captain. He’s just not.

TK: Do you find the Hydra regime a little more structured?

BR: Oh, yeah. I mean, we’re basically paramilitary. We’re so smooth and good with each other. It’s a great time. Felt like coming home, getting back with Jackie and Coach Pov.

TK: Have those rumors of game-nepotism affected the way you’re working and settling in for the season?

BR: Oh, no way. If I let every bad article slow me down, I’d never get anything done. Look. [Leans forward in his chair] Pierce is a very rich, very powerful man. I’m surprised Hydra didn’t get attacked more once he bought the team. And he really has turned it around. Zemo was a cool guy, but he didn’t know how to manage a baseball team.

TK: You’ve got to admit, Barnes is a lot of the reason Hydra kind of rose from the ashes.

After a moment:

BR: I mean, if you’re gonna throw the guy a bone, sure. But Pierce had only had the team for a year at that point. I don’t know if you can really put the resurrection on Barnes totally. Pierce was just hitting his stride.

TK: Well, if you’re not worried about the Avengers — 

BR: Yeah, no, not in a million years. The Avengers are the most average team in the league. There’s nothing there without me.

TK: Sure. But if not the Avengers, then surely Hydra is keeping their eye on the Mar-Vells.

BR: [Shrugs]

TK: Come on! They’re the Series Champs this year!

BR: Yeah, I know. But that was before  _ this  _ Hydra team. I mean, look. The Asgardians are a great team, but they never shoulda been anywhere near that last series. It shoulda been the Hydras by a good margin. But Barnes threw a hissy fit and ruined it for the rest of his team. Who knows where the Mar-Vells would be if Barnes had just swung the damn bat, right? I guess that’s a reason I don't think he’ll ever be a great player. Won’t put down the play that needs to happen when the time comes. That stunt was honestly the most selfish thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t believe all you networks played that strike out so much.  You encouraged his bad behavior.

TK: Hey, don’t blame me. [Laughs] I’m a journalist, not a news anchor.

BR: Point being, there’s nothing about this season that I think is going to catch me off my feet. I’m home. Hydra is strong. And we’re going to win the series with as few losses as possible on the way. I can’t wait to match up against my old team for the opening day game. I think it’s going to be an easy win to get under our belt and start the season.

TK: Well, hey man, it’s been a thrill chatting with you. Before we go, anything you wanna say to the fans? Any advice for being part of the ‘best’ team in the league this season?

BR: Sure. Out of pain, comes order. You’ll never succeed if you don’t hurt for it first. Hurt, bleed, then succeed.

 

The full interview will be available on my blog as a transcript and audio. Please check it out. Rumlow is honestly such a cool guy. If you miss the locker rooms from college, you’ll wanna listen to this interview. Makes you feel right back in those cinderblock rooms.

Not that this will matter as of next Friday, but the Hydras stand at a spring training record of 3-3. The Avengers stumble in with a 2-4. The Mar-Vells are holding steady at 5-0-1. And the new Wakandan team shows up with an impressive 6-0-1. (Note, the Wakandans played an extra game at the beginning of Spring Training against the dissolved Asgardians team, as a soft welcome to the League. The Panthers did not need it.)

The smaller squads, the Guardians and the X-Men, did not participate in the double round-robin spring training, but will be active during the season. Hopefully, the X-Men have their line up on lock and don't get DQ’d right before series play. They’re a strong team, even if they’re consistently freshman because of their trading and pulling up from their minor league team. The Guardians are always fun to watch, but half of the already short staffed team was injured during Spring Training. Everyone is expected to be ready to play, including new recruit Gamora, who joins Natasha Romanov and a few X-Men as a female solo player.

When the season starts, nothing from Spring Training will count except for the spite, work, and fuel that comes out of it. The season promises to be exciting and I personally cannot wait to see what each of these beloved teams does.

 

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Bucky crept into the house, avoiding all of the creaky steps and echoey rooms. He came up behind the rocking chair in the living room and let out a breath when he saw the familiar shock of bright hair.

“Pops?” he said softly. The man still startled enough to kick the recliner down some.

“Jimmy?” he said, looking around, though Bucky knew he wouldn’t be able to see Bucky until Bucky was right in front of him. So Bucky moved and squatted in front of the man.

“Hey, old man,” he said, leaning up to kiss his dad’s cheek.

“What’re you doin’ all the way out here? Don’t the Avengers got you in some swanky Manhattan loft?” George asked. He brought his hand up to Bucky’s cheek, orienting himself and Bucky in space.

“Yeah, I’ve got a place closer to the fields. But you know me. Can’t sleep the night before a big game. I was up early this morning. I brought breakfast, if you’re up for it.”

“I’m always up for breakfast with my son.”

Bucky grinned at the easy smile his dad sent him. “Sure. They’re just muffins, so you don’t even gotta get up or nothing.” He dug in the bag he’d brought and put a blueberry muffin right into his dad’s hand.

“Are these from Nikki’s?” George asked, running his fingers over the top of the muffins until he found the edge of the wrapper.

“Yeah. You know I’ve gotta get my fill when I’m down here.”

“She called me a traitor for not telling her you were moving away. Said she was gonna go out of business now.”

Bucky laughed and pulled a small footstool over so he could sit in his day’s narrow line of sight. “I still try’n get down here when I can. The Avengers physician, Banner, has had me on this crazy diet.”

“Yeah, your sister said you didn’t eat her pasta the other day.”

“Ugh, I coulda gone for some last night when I was trying to carb-load.”

George tsked and swatted in Bucky’s direction. “That’s so unhealthy, James. You should just eat protein in a normal amount before the game. That’s always worked for you better than anything else.”

Bucky made a noise that was neither agreement nor denial. “Maybe I’m just good at baseball no matter what I eat.”

“No, it was definitely the protein,” George said and then laughed immediately, so his teasing didn’t stick even a little bit

“You’re so mean to me on opening day,” Bucky pouted with his own grin as he shoved half a muffin into his mouth.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin tradition.”

“It’s not an opening day tradition if you do it every day.”

“Ah, boy. You’re still soft.”

“Yeah, you know, I think it has a lot to do with the man who raised me,” Bucky joked.

George scoffed and ruffled Bucky’s hair softly. “You’re going to do so well today, kid. I can’t believe you’re back with Stevie.”

“Yeah, it’s coming back to me.” Bucky didn’t mention that him and Steve still had barely spoken. Hadn’t been alone together. Hadn’t even showered while the other was showering. They hadn’t joshed with each other none, hadn’t rekindled their pre-game ritual. Bucky was a co-captain, but hadn’t interfered with Steve’s self-paced coaching at all. His dad didn’t need to know any of that.

“Are you coming? Did you decide? I left the tickets over on the entry table, but you moved them,” Bucky said instead. Something concrete and real. “I’ll drive you over, get you in early. You can make fun of me with Coach Fury even, if you want.”

George looked sad, pale eyes searching the air around Bucky until mostly stilling on Bucky’s face. Bucky wondered how much eyesight he was down to. It had been only a third of the normal vision range last time Bucky had taken him to an appointment, but Becca had taken care of the last few.

“Not today, Champ. But I’ll watch on the TV, okay? I promise. I’ll try to text you updates to see after.”

Bucky tried not to look crestfallen. He’d leave it to his old man to manage to catch the heartbroken look on his face when he couldn’t even find his muffin in his hand earlier. “That’s no problem, Pops. I love reading your analysis. Just don’t bug the umps so much this time.”

George tsked again and waved his hand. “The umps have it coming.”

Bucky had to agree but he was supposed to be curbing that kind of reaction from the man. Doctor’s orders. “Listen, any game you wanna come to, just tell me and I’ll make sure to get you out there. I promise.”

George smiled softly and pet Bucky’s hair. “I know that. But the sun is… I can’t hardly see on a good day. The sun makes it so bad.”

“Yeah, it’s okay, honest. And I’ll always come by after the game to get your opinion. Just...not tonight. We’re flying out to Louisiana for the Mar-Vells match-up tomorrow, so I’m gonna stay up in Manhattan tonight to be at the fields on time.”

George nodded and sat back in his chair. “I’m so proud of you kid. Now all you’ve gotta do is get married.”

“Dad!” Bucky groaned, bringing his hands up to his face.

“No, no, it’s legal now so you’ve got to be pressured too. Becs found herself such a nice young man. And you’ve had the same one all your life.”

“Dad.”

“You boys were always so dumb about each other. It drove me and your sister insane.”

“Is that what happened to Becca?”

George laughed and shook his head. “You have to make this right with him.”

“It’s not my fault! Pops, I’ve told ya’ a million times what happened. How am I supposed to get over that, huh?”

“You think it was always easy for your ma and me? After I got back from the Persian Gulf, I thought she wouldn’t never talk to me again. But she did, and then we got you. And you were everything we ever wanted. We cherished those long nights up with you, and your picky system, and every extra dollar we had to spend because you grew out of your clothes too fast. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, but that was almost a reality because we didn’t wanna work through what we’d done to each other, said to each other, either. You and Stevie are stronger than this. You always have been.”

“Pops, even just thinking about it makes my heart hurt so much that I get sick. I can’t just get over it.”

George hummed and patted Bucky’s head again. “You’re about to be late for your warm up,” he warned, just as Bucky’s alarm to leave started to ring.

“That’s still freaky, old man.”

George scoffed and rolled his eyes before sitting up a little to meet Bucky halfway in a hug. “Go get ‘em, Champ. I’ll be cheering you on from here.”

“Got the best seats in the house, Pops.”

“Any place I get to watch you play is the best seat in the house,” George said. He patted Bucky’s arm as the young man stood. “Be good to Steve.”

Bucky sighed and kissed his dad’s head before heading out the door.

 

*  * *

 

**Game 1: Inning 1: Top: Hydra--0 / Avengers--0**

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Bucky asked, zero emotion in his voice as he watched Barton’s first pitch go sailing back over the back wall of Zola Stadium. When Rollins rounded second, he made sure to catch Bucky’s eye and threw the ‘rock on’ sign at him as he lolled his tongue out of his mouth.

“Fucking dog,” Luke scoffed.

Bucky’s eyebrows sprang up and he choked on a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you badmouth anyone.”

“Give it long enough and you’ll hear me complain about everyone.” Luke threw him a grin and Bucky eased back into the next batter.

It took a bad hop off the pitcher’s mound and Bucky threw it back to first, confirming the out before the runner had even gotten close.

The next hit popped up right above Bucky and he only had to take a step forward and call off Luke and Steve.

Barton walked the next guy, but the idiot tried to run to second. Clint tossed the ball over his shoulder for Bucky to snag and dive onto second base, letting the runner slide right into his glove.

“Hey, Rollins!” Bucky called, running by the dugout as they left the field. “How’s it feel to hold the whole damn team up on your own? You got big ass shoes to fill and your dick suggests your feet ain’t that big.”

He was ready to go on, but Barton was there, pulling him away while Rollins shouted obscenities after him.

 

*  * *

  
**Game 1: Inning 3: Bottom: Hydra--2 / Avengers--1**

“Is...is Thor’s walk up song Thunderstruck?” Bucky asked, looking over at Natasha. Instead, he caught Steve’s eye. His face was flushed from the last inning, still riding the wave of the toppling catch he’d taken to stop Rumlow’s second hit of the game. His hair was standing up, sweaty and tousled from the hat he still played with all the time. Jesus Christ, Bucky hated him.

“It’s always been Thunderstruck,” he said with an easy smile. “It’ll be nice not to be on the receiving end of why.”

“What? Why?”

Bucky looked back at Thor , who had barely moved from the inside cutter that went bouncing out of Rollin’s glove. The next fast ball, though, Thor caught all of the ball and the connection cracked in the air around them. Just like a shot of thunder.

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense,” Bucky said, nodding as he watched the ball sail into the upper stands.

Steve laughed behind him, something light and happy. It crushed every broken piece of Bucky’s heart even further.

“I’m so damn glad we don’t have to deal with that while we’re on the field anymore.”

“You used to say that about Dugan too,” Bucky said.

“Yeah. I used to tell him I was kind of glad he didn’t enter the draft. I don’t think I could’ve stood it if I ever needed to field him.”

“Yeah, he was really good at taking pitchers’ heads off.”

Steve laughed again and knocked his glove against Bucky’s shoulder.

*  * *

  
**Game 1: Inning 7: Top: Hydra--6 / Avengers--3**

“Come on, pitch! Get off your knees! You’re blowing the game!” Rumlow taunted from his own dugout. Barton visibly had to shrug it off, but he didn’t even glance over.

Thor, on the other hand, stepped out of the line of play and earned the field ump running over to attempt to force him back.

“Keep your mouth shut!” Thor ordered, voice booming loud enough for Bucky to hear him clearly across the field. Steve caught his eye and Bucky shrugged, not moving to pull his teammate away just yet. Rumlow deserved to have that god of a man towering over him.

Rumlow let go of the chainlink of the fence and took a step back. But his eyes went right back to Clint as soon as Thor was back where he belonged. “Your girlfriend does all the work for you!”

Natasha didn’t look away from the pitch that Clint threw down the line. It was a ball by a mile, but it meant the runner on first got cocky and took off for second. Which was never smart with Nat behind the plate. She threw it right to Steve and they got the first out of the inning finally.

“Alright, guys, let’s keep it going!” Bucky called, bouncing around a little as they volleyed the ball back and forth while the other batter got ready at the plate. But the momentum slowed down again when Clint walked the next two batters again. Bucky looked over to Steve, but he was focused on the game. No intent to pull Clint yet.

“Hey, you still playin’ for us, buddy?” Rumlow taunted. “Sure seems like you want us to win.”

The next batter popped up a fly ball right over Bucky’s head, and even if it hit the ground, it kept the runner on two from scoring. Just moved him up a base. So it was bases loaded and Clint didn’t look even a little bit sure of himself.

Bucky wanted to call a time out, to give Clint some time to slow down and breathe, but by the time he decided to call it, the batter was laying down a sloppy bunt, only catching a piece of the curve Clint had thrown. Luke easily grabbed it, throwing his arm out to tag the runner on his right and then firing it down to Thor to get the third out.

“Thank fuck,” Sam coughed, running in behind Bucky before Bucky had even really realized what had happened.

“If I had to watch another walk come in, I was gonna grab the ball myself and start pitching,” Riley agreed.

“Then we’d really lose,” Castle said as they jostled Bucky back into the dugout before Bucky could get an arm around Clint. He made sure to pull Clint down next to him in the dug out and pressed their foreheads together.

“Hey, it’s just one bad inning. We’ll hold ‘em in the next and Luke and Castle are both up now. We’re gonna be fine,” he promised, holding Clint’s arm in a gladiator hold between them.

Clint nodded, but didn’t answer.

 

*  * *

  
**Game 1: Inning 9: Bottom: Hydra--7 / Avengers--5**

 

There were two guys out and no one on base. No pressure or anything. Bucky ignored the Hydra players as they tried to take each other’s heads off with their cool down after striking Barton out. He stepped up to the plate, kneeling down to grab a handful of dirt. He rubbed it over the back of his neck, even though he could still feel it clinging to the little hairs there from his last at bat. He shoved his hand through his hair, fixed his helmet, and took a deep breath, tapping the bat against the plate. Top, bottom, left, right.  _ Father, son, and holy spirit of baseball, please, fuck, don’t let me strike out _ .

“You gonna let ‘em lose the game too? You weren’t cut out for gettin’ the winning run,” Rolins taunted from under him. Bucky didn’t look down, only curled his fingers tighter around the handle of the bat as Van Halen died out from the speakers. The pitcher, some young guy Bucky didn’t know, stared him down before glancing at Rumlow instead of Rollins, which meant it wasn’t going to be anything but a fastball. Rollins needed eyes on him before he’d let someone pitch something ugly.

Bucky connected with the first pitch and sent the ball all the way back to the wall. Zola stadium was a booby-trap of impossibilities for other teams playing on the field. The dirt was crushed rock that took skin off on every slide and dive. The bases were sunk into the ground so anyone wheeling around them was bound to trip themselves up. The outfield was twenty yards deeper than any other field in the league. The back wall was the tallest in the league too. Trying to get a homerun over it when a player wasn’t used to the measurements was near impossible.

Bucky was very used to this field. He flipped the bat back over his shoulder so it would get in Rollins’ way and started off to first, slowing on the turn when he saw a few fans scrambling over the bleachers to get the ball. He didn’t loiter on the bases, always too anxious to get back to the game. He barely even looked at the dugout as he passed third. But, as he crossed homeplate, he couldn’t help but look up at Pierce’s box. A habit from when he was the golden child. But Pierce wasn’t even at the window. The elation of his first homerun of the regular season washed out of Bucky immediately. Steve was already at the plate and he held Bucky’s bat out to him.

“Buck…” he started softly, reaching for Bucky’s arm. Bucky shrugged away, but it didn’t keep Steve from hitting the top of his helmet. “Good job, man. It’s the energy we needed.”

Bucky looked up at him and nodded softly, though his heart was barely in it. “Thanks, dude. You better fucking keep it up.”

“Promise, Barnes.”

“That’s a big word.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Bucky started to walk away before turned back at the last second and squeezed Steve’s shoulder. “Knock ‘em dead, champ.”

“You’re turnin’ into your old man.”

“You wish. He likes you more than I do.”

“Are you two done flirting?” Rollins asked, standing up. “Can we get a delay of game, ump?”

“Move it or lose it, Rogers,” the umpire warned. Steve offered a little smile at Bucky and Bucky dropped himself back into the dugout. Like the dramatic little shit that he was, Steve worked the count up until he was sitting at three balls, two strikes. Bucky caught Rollins shifting outside, which was smart. Steve would reach for the low, outside pitch and either miss it and strike out, or he would only get a piece of it and line himself up for an easy out.

Instead, Steve caught all of it before the curve could drop and sent the ball soaring into the outfield. It might’ve been a more decent play, by the centerfielder tripped and only got the ball in as Steve was rounding second. Steve didn’t slow down or try to tag up. The ball followed him down the line, but the third baseman had one eye on the two hundred pounds of muscle barreling at him and he ended up fumbling the catch as Steve dove in, safe.

Bucky hadn’t even realized he was up at the fence until he had to let go of it. He took a step back, letting out a harsh breath.

“Are we invested now?” Sam asked from where he was sprawled across the bench, stretching out the leg he’d strained in a catch an inning ago.

“Fuck you, Wilson,” Bucky shot back creatively. He looked back at Steve as Riley settled himself at the plate.

“I didn’t do anything!” Wade objected.

“Not you!” six different voices answered.

Riley sent a grounder between second and short that was moving so quickly, Bucky swore he saw flames. Steve shouldn’t have run on it though. Mika on second was one of their fastest players and he had the ball thrown into home before Steve got halfway there. Steve put on the breaks, scurrying back to third for only a step while Rollins threw the third basemen the ball. The new pitcher was at home to take Rollins’ place when Steve started back to home. When he turned again, Rumlow was right on top of him. Steve took a step back before launching himself over Rumlow’s crouched body, squirming the last few inches to get a desperate hand on the base at the same time Rumlow threw himself onto Steve’s back in a clear violation of the extraneous force rules.

The dust slowly cleared.

Steve’s hand was still on the bag.

Rumlow’s glove still had a ball in it.

“You’re out!” the umpire called and was immediately followed by Fury leaving the coach’s box by third to shout, “You’re blind! I’m half blind and I saw he was safe! Review the damn tapes!”

But it turns out Rollins had stood right in front of the third-base line camera. All it picked up was half of his gear and the dust cloud the cat-and-mouse play had caused. The aerial, public camera was no use, not close enough. Which meant--

“The ruling on the field stands. Rogers is out. That’s number three. Game!”

“Bullshit!” Bucky shouted before Natasha was there to grab him from storming onto the field. “I was right here! I saw everything! We all did.”

“Yeah, and you’ve never tried to sabotage our games before,” Rollins scoffed.

“You’re a fucking cheater!” You knew where we leave cameras!”

“No ‘we’ anymore, bud. You’re the loser this time,” Rumlow said. He waved the glove with the ball in it towards the dugout and moved only when Riley shouldered by him to help Steve up.

Steve groaned softly and leaned on Riley as he tried to twist the soreness out. Bucky kicked the fence hard enough to loosen the connector at the top.

“It’s just the first game,” Sam said while Fury kept arguing with the umpires and demanding other video feed.

“Yeah, we got the first loss out of the way,” Luke pointed out.

“It’s still a fucking loss,” Castle spat.

“Guys,” Steve said softly, hobbling down the steps into the dugout. “Let’s just hit the showers. Don’t rile each other up anymore than we already are.”

“Handshake?” Wade asked, looking at the field.

Bucky looked too, at the team filing into the connected locker rooms, no one looking at the field. “Hydra doesn’t do after game handshakes. They take the unsportsmanlike conduct fine at the beginning of the year and leave as soon as the game is called,” he explained.

“God, I can’t believe we played with them,” Barton scoffed.

At least we used to win, Bucky thought. But then he watched Sam take Steve’s other free arm to help carry him towards the locker room while Luke packed his things and Thor collected their warm up gear. This looked more like a team than the rank and file in the other dugout.

Fuck him, he liked it.

 

**Game 1: FINAL: Hydra--7: Avengers: 6**


	4. Make You Look Like a Fool, Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from [The Boss of all American Music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vQpW9XRiyM)
> 
> Appreciate my fave [Art of Steve Ever](https://scontent.fftw1-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/61658262_2642358672458848_1914752624498835456_n.jpg?_nc_cat=106&_nc_oc=AQmIeA5OdBSKyafRff3FdsBEICcMLF3m3GJCi-SJ5OvhYN6MJ4bjoVjHqq0KRkISOWA&_nc_ht=scontent.fftw1-1.fna&oh=d251d1ad872f428ab3a1d25bc0a3c77e&oe=5DC327C0) since we're on a Springsteen song

“It’s bullshit,” Bucky spat again, words slurring as he leaned into Steve’s shoulder. “You were so far over that guy… His glove never even touched you ‘til it was too late!”

“Yeah, I know, Buck,” Steve assured again, fingers shaking slightly as he tried to get Bucky’s key in his door. He couldn’t help but think of a million times before this one where he’d been dragging Bucky home, drunk as a skunk, while he didn’t fare much better himself. The keys were always an issue.

“We shoulda won that game. I called every damn pitch and play.”

“Yeah, Buck, I know,” Steve placated. He finally got the door opened and pulled Bucky inside. It was a little bit of a trek through Bucky’s open space living room to get the man deposited on the couch, but neither of them fell over. Bucky always got drunk easier when he was upset. In school, Steve had to actively make sure there wasn’t any alcohol around if Bucky bombed an exam or got into it with a professor.

Even now, he swayed on the couch and had to drop back into the cushions to stay upright. Steve sighed and went to the kitchen to get a wet rag and water. He found the biggest water bottle Bucky had and dumped ice into it too, just to shock Bucky’s system. He took a long pull from it himself, because he could tell he was drunker than he was letting on. But getting Bucky home without him starting a fight, either with people on the street or with Steve, had been priority one. Now that they were both safe, the alcohol was hitting him particularly hard.

Bucky was basically comatose again when Steve walked back into the living room, the same thousand mile stare in his eyes that had overtaken him in the dugout after the game. Steve hadn’t really expected Bucky’s passion for the game to decrease any once he went pro. And from his showing on the field, he hadn’t missed a step going from college ball to the major leagues. But Steve also hadn’t expected him to throw himself into the game quite as much either. 

In school, he’d had other interest, friends, things to do. But even the tabloids and gossip sites couldn’t catch Bucky hitting up any clubs or going out with anyone, doing anything.

After he’d hurt himself his second year, the league opened an investigation to Karpov and Pierce, a culmination of a team that was constantly injured in the most intense ways possible. But Bucky had been so uncooperative with the investigation and getting his coach and owner in trouble that the whole case was dismissed out of hand. Steve hadn’t ever liked Pierce and there was a time when Bucky didn’t either. They hadn’t been lead away from any team as hard as the Virginia program urged them to stay away from the Hydras.

Steve was feeling particularly vindicated, in the worst way possible, when Bucky had hit that homer and immediately looked, not to Fury, but to Pierce up in the VIP box. Even when Bucky was playing for the Hydras, Pierce rarely reacted. And when there was no reaction this time, Bucky had shut down instantly.

“Rumlow never earns a damn single one of his runs,” Bucky was still muttering to himself as Steve sat down next to him. “It’s like he curses the whole damn infield. Everyone makes the stupidest decisions and mistakes when he’s running the bags.”

Steve passed over the water bottle and Bucky brought it up to his mouth without really thinking about it. Steve watched the brain freeze hit him, his face scrunching up in displeasure and then his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he tried to lick the roof of his mouth. It was the same exact reaction he’d had since they’d met and drank slushees too fast after games.

“You’re trying to kill me,” he mumbled, leaning into Steve’s side heavily.

“I know a million different ways to kill you without getting caught, Buck. Trust me, ice water isn’t one of them.”

“I’m reporting you to the commissioner for threatening speech.”

“You do that, Bucky.”

Bucky scowled at the opposite wall, trying and failing to direct it at Steve. “I fucking hate him.”

“Who?” Steve asked, trying to make sure Bucky wasn’t thinking out loud and talking about Steve himself.

“Fucking Rumlow! Rollins was bad enough before, but, God, I could kill Rumlow.”

“Threatening speech.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rogers.”  Bucky drew in a long breath and Steve braced himself for the tirade. “He’s a fucking cheat. He’d everything people think the game has become. He gives the rest of us a bad fucking name. And I don’t know how he keeps passing his drug tests. Karpov is too stupid to fake them. I bet it’s fucking Pierce. Sleeper agent piece of shit.”

Steve sighed and slowly worked his fingers through Bucky’s hair. It was still knotted and damp from sweat and Bucky’s cap and the rubber band he kept in his hair for too long all the time. “Yeah, Buck. We all know Pierce is a cheater. And you’re right, Rumlow’s even worse. But they ain’t your problem no more, alright? You ain’t a Hydra. You ain’t Pierce’s anymore.”

Bucky scoffed and sat up, fighting with his travel shirt until he could throw it aside. Steve swallowed thickly because, even if they’d broken up on the worst terms, Steve hadn’t ever stop loving Bucky, hadn’t stopped being attracted to him, and getting Bucky half stripped down in the privacy of Bucky’s apartment was a lot all at once after four years of avoidance.

“I ain’t never been a Hydra,” he said, turning so Steve could see his left shoulder, the bad shoulder, Steve had to remind himself when he reached out too quickly. His fingers skimmed over the flying wing tattoo, the Howlies’s symbol. They’d all gotten way too drunk one night and gotten it tattooed on their shoulders. An eternal brotherhood.

“What’s the star?” Steve asked once he was certain that tattoo was still there, still real. The new one was hard to miss, then, the red star that took up almost all of Bucky’s shoulder, set behind the flying wings.

Bucky scoffed and shrugged his arm away from Steve’s line of sight. “A bad decision.”

Steve stared at him for a second longer, but didn’t push it any further. Even after all this time, he knew better. If Bucky regretted something, anger would be fast on its heels.

“It’s such bullshit. All of those years were bullshit. I shoulda gone out for the Mar-Vells.”

“Those girls woulda eaten you alive, Buck,” Steve laughed softly.

“Carol’s so fucking cool.”

“She’s still not into you,” Steve reminded, easing himself into a nicer night than he’d had in a long time.

“I ain’t into her like that.” He paused. “Okay, I am. Kinda. God, she’s so cool.”

“You ever think you could just appreciate someone and not want to fuck them?”

Bucky made an aborted barfing sound. “I don’t wanna fuck her. You know I wouldn’t. But she seems like she’d be easy to love. Something natural and real.” And he really liked blonds.

Steve remembered something else that was easy and natural. Loving used to always be that way for him. A great big heart in a body that was just too tiny. He didn’t feel like anything had changed, but he had to admit, opening up and making friends had been hard since college, since the Howlies, since Bucky.

Bucky, who looked close to getting sick for real, was currently swaying, eyes unfocused again. Steve reached out to hold his shoulder but before he could get a decent grip, Bucky was leaning into Steve’s space, getting his mouth pressed against Steve’s.

Easy.

Steve couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the kiss, one hand going to Bucky’s hair to hold him close. A position he’d been in a million times before. One far too easy to fall right back into it. Everything felt right, even if they were drunk, even if they were still angry at each other, even if they hadn’t talked anything through like adults.

Bucky climbed into Steve’s lap, getting his hands under the practice tank top he was wearing. His fingers were still just a calloused as Steve remembered and he shivered as the scar from the big surgery dragged along his chest. He wouldn’t have been able to imagine a world where Bucky’s hands weren’t immediately recognizable to him, but here they were, covered in new scars and muscles.

Bucky moaned into Steve’s mouth, sounding small and desperate. A little like their first kiss, but with more anger and hurt behind it. They’d just been dumb, scared kids then. Now they were dumb, fucked up adults and sometimes the difference felt insurmountable. But not while Bucky’s tongue was down his throat. As it turns out, that was just as effective as it was when they were fifteen.

Steve’s fingers clutched at Bucky’s hips desperately until he felt Bucky’s hand fall to his waistband. “Wait, wait, wait,” he mumbled, sitting up and pushing Bucky back.  “You’re so drunk right now. There’s no way our pants are coming off.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Bucky bit out and any hope that Bucky’s anger towards him had diminished vanished instantly. “You’d fuck Carter drunk.”

Steve blinked at Bucky and shook his head. “Peggy and I never slept together. She’s one of my best friends.”

“Not fucking Peggy. Sharon. That night at the frat party. Don’t fucking act like--”

“I didn’t sleep with her! I’ve told you a million times! I--”

“I don’t want to fucking hear it! I know what I--”

“You didn't see shit! She kissed me, Buck!”

“Pretty fucking story! She shove your hand up her shirt too?”

“I wasn’t touching her!”

“God, you’re such a fucking liar! What do you get from lying about it now?!”

“I’m not lying, Bucky! I didn’t touch her! You were drunk. We both were! You saw what you wanted to see!”

“Why the fuck would I want to see your hand up her shirt, Rogers? You were my fucking life. I never imagined a world where we weren’t RogersAndBarnes. I never wanted you out of my fucking eyesight!”

“You didn’t want to deal with Ma dying!”

Bucky’s mouth opened, but no words came out. All at once, the energy in the air shifted from something angry and hot to something so cold it made Steve’s blood stop roaring in his ears.

Steve know immediately it had been the wrong thing to say.

The bright red flush on Bucky’s cheeks dimmed as the fire in his eyes did too, replaced too quickly with welling tears.

“I knew your ma better than I knew my own. Don’t you ever act like she didn’t mean the whole damn world to me.”

Bucky’s lips curled into a snarl before he was suddenly jumping to his feet, reaching for the team jacket he’d thrown off earlier.

“Buck, where are you going?” Steve asked.

“I’m going fucking home.”

Steve sighed and brought his hands up to his face. “This is your place, Bucky.”

Bucky took a second to look around before scoffing. “Then I’ll go to Becca’s! I don’t give a fuck.”

“You’re gonna let the girls see you like this?”

Bucky sank down to the ground, sitting against the coffee table and about as far from Steve as he could get while staying near the couch.

“You kissed her.”

“She kissed me!”

“You kissed her back.” Bucky didn't raise his voice, didn’t sound like he could. Steve knew the thousand mile stare was coming back. He slowly slid off the couch to sit next to Bucky, but stared at his own hands instead.

“I kissed her back,” he said. He didn’t really remember it. Just that him and Bucky had both been so upset. That they’d lost the game the night before and had fought about something stupid and went to that damn party to blow off steam. Steve kicked himself every day for letting Bucky convince him. They normally didn’t party during the season. Too much was on the line, their health was too important, their reputations, the school’s expectations. But they went and it all fell apart.

“Buck, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect it and I wasn’t thinking. It was stupid. It was a mistake. But you’ve gotta know I woulda never hurt you. As soon as I realized what was happening, I stopped it. Asked her to stop. And there’s not a day that I don’t wish I hadn’t let her lean in, that I hadn’t kissed back. There’s not a day that I’m not sorry about it. I know it’s on me. I know that. But I don’t know how I’m supposed to make it right…”

Bucky stared at the opposite wall for a few silent moments before he looked at Steve. Steve realized suddenly that it had been four years since they’d really looked at each other, alone and close like this. For all the bravado Bucky had on the field and in interviews, he’d aged and hurt just the same as Steve.

“You didn't mean to kiss her? Didn't want to?” he asked softly.

Steve’s heart squeezed and he shook his head tightly. “It’s the biggest regret of my whole life.”

Bucky nodded at him but didn’t say anything else. Then he leaned over and pressed his mouth against Steve’s again, hand coming up to his jaw to hold him gently. Steve leaned right into him and clutched at Bucky’s sides like if he let go Bucky would go back to how they were earlier. As Bucky pressed on for a deeper kiss, the worry and fear in Steve’s chest eased. They were going to be okay.

Then Bucky puked in Steve’s lap.

He immediately sagged against Steve’s chest, forehead pressed against Steve’s collarbone as Steve shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t want to stop holding Bucky. He slowly started to shimmy out of his sweatpants and worked Bucky to halfway standing. He kept an arm around Bucky’s waist and finished getting his own pants off.

“Come on, kid. I can’t believe you still do that,” he muttered as he limped off with Bucky’s mostly dead weight.

“I don’t mean’ta,” Bucky mumbled, pressing his face into Steve’s neck. Steve refused to think about how much he’d missed this. He dropped Bucky on his bed and pulled his tank top off, clearing the rest of the vomit from his face.

“Wait,” Bucky mumbled when Steve started to leave to clean the living room.

“Yeah, Buck?” he asked, pausing in the doorway.

“Don’t leave. I can’t sleep without you. It’s been so damn long since I’ve actually slept.”

Steve’s heart ached in his chest. “Of course. I’ll come back in a second.”

Bucky nodded against the pillow, eyes shut already. Steve went back to the living room, cleaned up enough to survive until tomorrow, and was back in the bedroom within ten minutes. He washed his hands and grabbed a pair of Bucky’s sleep pants. He slid into the bed behind Bucky and tentatively wrapped his arm around his waist. He froze when Bucky started to shift, but the other man only turned over and pressed himself into Steve’s chest again.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered against Steve’s skin. “And I wanted to. But I couldn’t.”

Steve brought his hand up to Bucky’s back, slowly stroking his shoulder. “Yeah, Buck. I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried.” And he had tried after everything had happened. The fighting. The trade. Dropping out. Steve being drafted in.

“‘Til the end of the line.”

“‘Til the end of the line,” Steve agreed softly, leaning down to kiss Bucky’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [LOOK WHAT THE YANKEES DID](https://www.huffpost.com/entry/yankees-stonewall-inn-plaque_n_5d13622de4b0aa375f56a659?utm_medium=facebook&utm_campaign=hp_fb_pages&ncid=fcbklnkushpmg00000050&utm_source=qv_fb&fbclid=IwAR1tlCIPJCi0Yn-0d5rpu4tmAPc59HQbMGi8dEwFVYffT7aRzAKlm-3CVkc)


	5. It’s the Hard Way, But It’s the Right Way (to break in a glove)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from, of course, [Dear Evan Hansen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lhGXJcxydkQ) (fun fact, I heard this version before the actual version--yay Derek Klena obsession--and when I heard the OBC version I was like...father? What?)

**Pre-Game Coverage for the Mar-Vell/Avengers Match Up**

 

There aren’t many moments in the league anymore that are truly touching and sweet. The intensity of the game and the pressure put on the players to constantly exceed expectations keeps the cuteness factor to a minimum, especially between teams. But leave it to the Avengers and the Mar-Vells to break stereotypes. Before the game even started, the familiar teams greeted each other like old friends instead of future rivals. AFROTC Team members Sam Wilson and Riley Wiatrek kissed their mentor Carol Danvers on either cheek as they passed her and playfully razzed with Danvers’ long time partner, Maria Rambeau. Steve Rogers hugged Peggy Carter so tightly he spun her off her feet. Luke Cage and Danny Rand got chewed out by their Defenders teammate, Jessica Jones. Thor Odinson and the Lady Sif warmed each other up while laughing the majority of the time. Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton and Melinda May from the Shield college program tossed around a few pitches. And of course Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne brought back all the rumors of their relationship status.

I’m not trying to get sentimental here, but sometimes I forget about those summer days in the city park that made me fall in love with the sport in the first place. We get so caught up in the stats and the records and the bets that we lose sight of the love of the game. The Mar-Vells and Avengers always manage to take me right back home, frozen pickle juice in hand, ratty glove in the dirt by my feet.

Win or lose today and tomorrow, these teams bring dignity and class back into the game and remind us what it’s all about. Teamwork, friendship, and love. Of each other, of the game, of getting to play baseball in this Louisiana late winter heat.

Play ball, yall!

 

 

 

 

  
  
  
  
  


**Game 2: Inning 1: Bottom: Mar-Vells--0 / Avengers--2**

 

“Do you think it’s the best idea to let Barton pitch this game?” Bucky asked dubiously as he paced around the edge of the outfield/infield line. 

Steve threw up a ball for the fourth time and caught it in his bare hand before answering. “Someone has to pitch tomorrow. And I’d rather see how the Mar-Vells are playing without Peggy before I decide any serious positioning decisions.”

Bucky glared across the field for a second, staring at nothing, before knocking his fist into his glove and intercepting the grounder Thor was throwing to Luke.

“Hey, Barnes, you gonna pout all day or do we get to get started?” Sif called, bouncing her bat against the inside of her cleat. When he looked up at her, she flashed a bright grin that was mostly a display of teeth.

“Lady, I could take you on in my sleep,” he called back.

“You’re all talk, Barnes. Just like your steal up there on first.”

“Hey! I didn’t ask for him!” Bucky laughed while Thor looked exaggeratedly indignant.

“For the record,” Thor called back. “I didn’t ask for him either.” He threw a pop fly up at Bucky and Bucky threw it aside to the dugout. He fell back to back-up Steve as Natasha threw the last pitch down at second.

Bucky checked on Riley and found him suitably dropped back, light on his feet. Sif wasn’t the most powerful hitter on whatever team she was on, but she was dangerously consistent. If she hit a grounder, there was little chance Thor would be able to get in front of it in time to stop it. If she popped it up, it wouldn’t go to the fence, but she’d make Riley work for it. At least dropped back like this, he was ready to move both forward and back without tripping himself up.

Sif and Clint volleyed back and forth with a few balls, a few strikes, a few fouls before Sif sent a scorcher right between Steve and Thor. Even with Steve going all out for it, it skimmed by the tip of his glove and rolled to a stop in the outfield. And Sif was so damn fast that she was on first by the time Riley could fire it back to Thor. Thor tagged up on her but she was firmly planted on the base.

Maria came up next and popped up the first pitch that came her way. Steve geared up to catch it but, after a quick glance at Sif on first also watching the ball and sticking close to the base for the in-field fly rule, he let the ball drop between his feet before grabbing it and throwing it down to Bucky. Maria had run on her hit and tagged the base before Bucky could get the second out, but it left Sif fuming in Thor’s face as he laughed and shrugged.

“Dirty,” Maria said, pointing at Steve. He laughed and nodded. “I know. But these new rules are just begging to be broken.”

Maria grinned and nodded. “Yeah. Just remember you gotta hit us tomorrow too.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know the tricks,” Thor laughed. Maria knocked her fist into his shoulder before everyone turned their attention back to the game.

“Move up,” Bucky told Luke lowly when Jessica Jones took position in the right side batter’s box. She was a notorious lefty which could only mean--

“She’s slap bunting,” Luke called as Jones ran forward on the third pitch. It tipped-off towards third on a slow roll. Definitely not fast enough for Luke to retrieve it and pivot to throw down to second, so he threw it to first. Thor tried to throw it to second for the next out, but Maria was able to slide in under Steve’s leaping catching.

She popped to her feet and laughed as she patted dirt off her thigh. “You boys are gonna have to be faster than that if this old lady’s beating you.”

“Maybe we’re being nice,” Bucky said amiably.

“You’ve never been nice in your entire life, Barnes,” she scoffed.

Bucky shrugged and watched Carol come up to the plate, all easy confidence and earned relaxation. He checked the outfield and found Sam and Riley both out of position, waiting for inevitable homerun. Castle was still crouched and ready because he didn’t know how to give up when he’d been beaten. Carol Danvers was about as consistent as Thor Odinson when it came to homers, in that every 9.5 out of 10 was going over the wall, regardless of where they were playing. The Asgardians and Mar-Vells were strong teams all around, but having the two power houses really worked for them.

As always, Carol watched the first strike go by without even lifting the bat off her shoulder. No one could get her to say why she did that but as far back as high school footage always showed her taking the first strike. Most people figured it was pity for the pitchers.

She cracked the next good one into left field and Sam jogged back but didn’t even make it halfway to the fence before giving up. The ball landed somewhere in the second set of rafter stadiums and kids clambered over each other to chase it down.

Maria rounded the bases with a tip of her helmet to Bucky and Luke as she passed and Carol was hot on her heels. When they’d both hit the plate, they jumped up, knocking their shoulders and hips together mid air.

“Higher, further, faster, baby!” Carol laughed. They clasped hands as they high-fived and tangled themselves up, arms around shoulders, leaned close together. Bucky missed that shit so badly. He looked over at Steve and found Steve already looking at him. Both of them quickly looked away.

 

*  * *

 

**Game 2: Inning 5: Top: Mar-Vells--4 / Avengers--3**

 

“Sunflower seeds?” Sam offered, holding the bag towards Bucky. Bucky looked away from what was about to become Barton’s second strikeout of the game. He’d struck out at every at-bat they’d had so far this season. Granted, the season was still very young, but he had a solid four or five at-bats behind his name already, not to mention pre-season when he’d only managed a walk and a single. It was going to tank his average.

Sam dumped a generous amount in Bucky’s palm and Bucky looked around their dugout, elbows leaned back on the support bar of the fence. He cringed when he heard a solid pitch hit the catcher’s mitt. They’d swapped the batting line up for the game and Nat was up now, which meant Bucky needed to be in the batter’s box. As Clint stormed back inside, throwing his bat into the bat cubby, Bucky held out his fist, dumping half of the seeds into Clint’s and popping the rest into his mouth.

“You’ll do it next time, bud,” he said, though it came out garbled.

“Stop fucking telling me that,” Clint snapped, handing Bucky his bat and helmet. “Just make it fucking worth it that you’re up.”

“Woulda been up if you’d hit it too,” Bucky pointed out before scrambling out of the dugout as Clint started at him with a practice bat.

Natasha wasn’t their most powerful batter, but she was fast and she was smart. Any single could easily turn into a double or triple with her. Doubles were definitely in scoring range, and anything that went all the way to the wall was basically a homerun. So Bucky was thrilled to hear her connect with the ball. It didn’t go quite to the wall, but it put Nat on third soundly.

“Bring me home, Soldier,” she called as he jogged up to the plate.

Bucky knocked his bat against the plate. Up down left right.  _ Father spirit holy ghost of baseball please fuck don’t let me strike out _ . He kneeled down, taking himself out of play, to rub dirt over the back of his neck.

“You do that every time you bat?” Melinda May asked from under the catcher’s helmet. 

Bucky shrugged and glanced at her. “Baseball players are superstitious. Sue me.”

“Hey, there ain’t no talking in baseball,” the umpire snapped. “I’ll give you both delay of game.”

Melinda scoffed but didn’t say anything and Bucky took his stance, staring down Carol. It was fucking hard to get a hit off of her. Most of the time, it looked like her pitches had flames on them. But watching the first strike and then a nasty drop got him caught up and he was able to connect with the next one. It was no home run, but it was enough to bring Natasha in and land him at second with a bobbled pass-off.

“Next time, Barnes,” Carol warned with her easy smirk.

“You wish, Danvers.”

  
  


*  * *

 

**Game 2: Inning 9: Bottom: Mar-Vells--5 / Avengers--6**

By some grace of God, the eighth inning had ended with Carol on base and so Bucky felt pretty good that now, with two outs on the board and the hotel room so close he could almost taste it, no one was going to smack a homerun out of the park. And then Lady Sif sauntered out. (James Buchanan was not going to judge people for their weird names, but sometimes her full name raised his eyebrows)

Regardless, his eyebrows were not in motion as she took the plate, all easy movements and confidence. The Mar-Vells were truly one of the most powerful teams in the league and a lot of it had to do with Sif’s swing, usually drawing comparison to her previous teammate, Thor. Last Series, she’d won Offensive Player of the league, over Thor and Carol. It was the first time in almost eight years that the Offensive Player of the Year went to a player on the losing team. She was just that damn good. She could put the ball anywhere that she wanted with painful precision. And she knew exactly where everyone’s weaknesses were.

So when she finally connected with the ball, Bucky only jogged a few meters into the outfield before giving up and turning to grab it on the comedown. 

“Got it!” Sam shouted, hauling ass up to where Bucky was still keeping one eye on the ball moving over him and one on the real grass field. “I’ve got it! Call off!”

And then Sam Wilson went sprawling to catch it, hitting the ground hard just a few feet ahead of Bucky. Still, Bucky could hear his groan and he quickly ran over, hauling Sam up by the back of his jersey and holding his arm up to show the ball in his glove. Sam gave him a blood grin, lips bleeding from where he hit the ground, and slung his arm around Bucky’s shoulder.

“Good thing I was around to play hero,” he laughed and Bucky scowled at the blood that ended up on his jersey.

“Yeah, yeah, a real savior. And you’re lucky I was there to dig you back out of the ground afterwards.”

“Eh, Riley would’ve eventually gotten me,” Sam said with a shrug. 

As if called, Riley was at Sam’s other side, taking his weight and flashing Bucky a thankful smile. “Honestly, always gotta play the hero,” he tsked as he walked Sam over to the dugout where Bruce Banner was already waiting for them.

Bucky veered off in time to push Steve back to the pitcher’s mound, stopping him from following after Sam, so they could end the game with Carol as the rest of their teams shook hands.

“Gentlemen,” Carol greeted with a sure smirk on her lips. “That was a close one. We’ll call it a draw.”

Bucky barked out a laugh and shook his head. “Sure we will. We just beat last Series’s champs. We’re taking this win.”

“You’ve always gotta be so official about everything,” she scoffed sarcastically. She offered her hand out to Steve. “Good game, Cap. Can’t wait to see you up on the mound tomorrow.”

“Good game, Cap,” he echoed, taking her hand before laughing. ““Hey, you don’t know that I’m pitching tomorrow.”

“You know, you’re always so charming when you pretend like you forget how long I’ve been playing this game.”

“As long as there’s been orange dirt on the ground?” Bucky guessed, earning a solid sock on the shoulder.

“Good game, guys. It’s a hell of a come back from earlier in the week.” She grinned and knocked her fist into Steve’s shoulder before getting distracted by a little shout and a tiny bullet of a  kid sprinting at her full tilt. 

Bucky waved at Monica before nudging his shoulder into Steve’s. “Come on, let’s get on with it. There’s always tomorrow to worry about.”

Steve huffed out a breath and jostled Bucky back to the dugout and it almost felt like all the old days.

 

* * *

 

They didn’t even manage to get the hotel door locked behind them before Steve’s hands were in Bucky’s shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it to the other wall. Bucky would’ve undressed Steve too, but his mouth was too busy on Steve’s neck as soon as he got free. Steve’s fingers curled around his hips so Bucky had no choice but to stumble backwards with him towards the bed.

When they’d left dinner two minutes before, Sam and Riley had begged for them to remember that they were all sharing a room, but the mostly-joking warning had already escaped both of their minds while hands fumbled with slack zippers and shirt buttons. Somehow, Steve managed to shrug out of his shirt and flip Bucky over onto his back in the same movement.

“Jesus,” Bucky groaned, running his hands over Steve’s perfect damn chest. “How do you fucking look like this?”

Steve laughed and leaned down to kiss Bucky hungrily. “A lot of cardio.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky laughed back, hands finding their way to Steve’s hair to hold him close. “You sure you wanna do this?” he asked after he’d caught his breath.

Steve nodded, forehead dragging on Bucky’s, noses bumping together. “I’ve been waiting for this make up sex for years.”

Bucky rolled his eyes but kept his fingers in Steve’s hair. “I just don’t want to rush into this. And...I mean...don’t want it to just be sex,” he mumbled, a blush racing down his cheeks.

Steve smiled fondly, freeing a hand to drag his fingers over Bucky’s face. “It’s never gonna be just sex between us, Buck. Even if we’d said that was what we wanted.”

“And I’m still pissed at you,” Bucky added between the soft kisses Steve was giving him.

“Yeah, I know. I’m never gonna stop being sorry, doll.” Bucky made a noise and fell back into the pillows. Steve pressed a few kisses along Bucky’s jaw until Bucky relented and tilted his head back for more. “But we’re here now. The both of us. Talking about it. Even if it seems like we need foreplay to get there.”

“This is not foreplay.”

Steve cut him a dubious look but continued. “Buck, we’ve dealt with so much and trying to exist without you has been… It’s been hell, Buck. I can’t do this without you. I don’t  _ want  _ to.”

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat and he shook his head. “Don’t. Don’t say things like that.”

“Too irresistible, when I do?” Steve joked softly.

“Too relatable.” He trailed his fingers over Steve’s neck softly and then closed his eyes because things like this were a lot easier without looking at him.

“We’re supposed to be together, Bucky. We’re  _ good  _ together.” Steve tilted his head so he could press soft kisses to the inside of Bucky’s wrist.

“But what happened between us…”

“It’s never going to happen again. Bucky, I swear I’m never going to hurt you again.”

“Bullshit.”

“Yeah, alright, we’re gonna hurt each other. But not like that. I’m so sorry. Every day since then, I’ve been sorry.”

Bucky let out a long breath before looking at Steve, pushing his fingers through Steve’s hair softly. “We need to stop doing this while our pants are open.”

“Yeah, you definitely stalled my hard-on,” Steve agreed. “Slower this time?”

Bucky nodded and leaned up to kiss Steve softly. “I just need to know we’re on the same page. This is mostly just hate sex tonight.”

“I’ll woo you tomorrow,” Steve promised, winking as he dragged his thumb over Bucky’s lip. Bucky let it slide into his mouth and groaned when Steve’s other hand found its way into Bucky’s pants. He didn’t remember the last time hate sex felt so fucking good.

 

* * *

 

“Are you fucking kidding me!” Sam shouted two hours later as Steve groggily worked a blanket over their naked bodies and Riley threw clothes back to their side of the room. “I hate both of you so much.”


	6. Not Fair Weather, But Foul Weather Fans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from [this song!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iQWbKqFVoeQ)

**Big Board Snag!**

By: Annie P.

Our first double header of the season started out with a cute scene. Which, of course. It’s the Avengers and Mar-Vells. They’re the most wholesome matchup in the league. (Though some would argue the Panthers so soundly beating the Hydras last night was wholesome enough for the whole season)

Before the game began, outfielders Riley Wiatrek and Sam Wilson got caught on the Big Board screen for their unusual warm up partners, with both men tossing balls with Monica Rambeau--Carol Danvers’ daughter--and Ashley Wilson--Wilson’s own niece. Poor Wilson was publicly rejected by his niece in favor of throwing with her ‘uncle Riley’. The kids loved the experience and took both warm up balls to toss around with each other during the slow beginning of the game, missing Danvers’ triple and Wilson’s double RBI. They were both able to catch Danvers coming in to home on a steal though, giving little Wilson a chance to taunt her uncle one more time.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Game 3: Inning 3: Top: Mar-Vells--0 / Avengers--1**

 

Bucky saw it out of the corner of his eye, but he was just a split second too late to call it, which was all Danvers ever needed. He was still riding the high of stopping her at third with Castle’s punishing throw in from the fence landing right in his glove as he turned to tag her. And maybe the high of Steve slapping his ass as they huddled around the dugout to take the field. Stupid, stupid.

“Running!” he called to Steve on the mound, rushing after Carol. But any time someone started off behind Carol, there was no hope they’d get anywhere near her. Hell, most of the time, anyone starting off before or at the same time as her was only near her when she was passing them.

Steve barely flicked his eyes at the commotion before throwing the ball at Natasha. And Natasha fucking tried, stretching out to snag the ball early, toppling over herself to make the tag as Carol slid head first into home. Bucky jumped over the tangle of women on the ground and looked at the umpire pleadingly.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she scoffed, shaking her head and taking the faceplate off. “Danvers was halfway over the bag before you even called out.” 

“That’s an exaggeration! You’re biased!” Bucky said. “What else could Nat have done there?”

“Tagged her before she was clearly safe?” the umpire suggested. Bucky groaned and threw his arms up in the air.

Natasha managed to get to her feet first, mostly by virtue of being the last person to fall, and offered her hand down to Carol. “We should try that again sometime,” she suggested with a grin.

Carol laughed, full and gorgeous, head thrown back. “You’re tempting, Russia. But I know who I’m going home to.”

“Me,” Natasha said, gesturing to the half covered plate in between them.

It drew another laugh from Carol. “Red, I’ve gotta get you on this team.”

“I’m already on your team,” Natasha said with a wink.

“Enough,” Bucky said, pretending to gag as he put himself between both of them. “Can we focus on the game? Please?”

“If I focus anymore, I’m just gonna beat you worse,” Carol said.

“Don’t make me give you an unsportsmanlike behavior penalty, Danvers,” the umpire said, pulling her face mask back on.

“Yes, ma’am,” Carol said with a lazy salute.

 

*  * *

 

**Game 3: Inning 6: Top: Mar-Vells--2 / Avengers--2**

 

With Steve pitching, Rand was on second. He was still learning, but not half as practiced as Bucky was when it came to reading the game. Then again, Bucky was kind of a savant at it. He was banned from scouting games in college because of it. Bucky had been cheating towards second all game to make up for Rand’s greenness, trusting Luke to take up some of the extra distance he was leaving between them.

Watching Jessica Jones take the plate didn’t make him jump one way or the other. She was powerful when she wanted to be, but only put herself on base about twenty percent of the time. She was good for clearing out some of the bases, but the luck of it all only had someone on first. The likelihood of the Mar-Vells scoring off this hit was slim to none. If she even managed a hit. Very few had been given up, even with Carol and Sif having come up to the plate.

As the first strike went over the plate and then another, Bucky refused to let himself get complacent. He was justified when Jones popped up a foul that had Riley and Thor lazily chasing after it before it came down behind the dugout.

Steve threw in a ball, but Jones didn’t fall for it and tipped off the next good one too. Bucky saw Natasha signal for a fast ball and he shifted just a little bit closer to second in case she got a piece of it. And she did. Bucky wasn’t sure how he made the play because his entire world felt like it stopped in the moments after she connected.

The ball didn’t pop up like her others had. Instead, it line drived right at Steve. Bucky couldn’t see what happened, only that the ball was by Steve’s head and then Steve was on the ground. Somehow, _somehow_ , Bucky caught the ball before it hit the ground and threw it at Thor for the double play, but he didn’t pause to confirm. He ran over to Steve, ditching his glove halfway there so that when he dropped to his knees by him, he could get his hands on Steve’s head.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, searching Steve’s dazed eyes before looking for any bruising or bleeding on his head, fingers probing the back of his skull for damage. He moved two fingers slowly in front of Steve’s face to make sure his eyes could track along with it.

“I’m alright, Buck,” Steve eventually said, reaching up for Bucky’s wrist. “It didn’t hit me. I turned my head out of the way.” He sat up slowly, leaning into Bucky’s shoulder just to confirm for himself that he was okay.

Bucky got his arm around Steve’s waist and stood up with him. “You good to keep playing?” he asked, still studying Steve’s face.

Steve shook out his arms and then his legs and then rolled his head on his shoulders. The same old tic to get rid of his nerves that he’d had all their life. “Yeah. I’m good to keep going. Honest, don’t worry about it, Buck. Just spooked me.”

“Yeah, you and me both.” He reached for Steve’s glove to hold it over his mouth so the cameras couldn’t pick up what he was saying later. “I just got you back. Don’t fucking scare me like that.”

“Just a bad bounce, Buck. Honest.” Steve reached over to shove Bucky’s head down playfully. “Get back to short. We’re gonna need you again, I’m sure.”

Bucky studied Steve’s face before finally letting out a small breath. The knot in his throat eased up just a little bit. “Yeah, alright. If you just threw a little faster, we’d be just fine.”

Steve rolled his eyes and kicked some dirt towards Bucky before turning back to the plate.

Bucky pretended like his next few breaths weren’t shaky as hell.

 

*  * *

 

**Game 3: Inning 7: Bottom: Mar-Vells--2 / Avengers--2**

 

Bucky liked Mar-Vell games, especially when it became a slug-fest. Thor, Castle, Sif, Danvers, Storm, Grey, the guy with the hair that sometimes played with the X-Men. But so far today, neither team had managed to connect with the ball. Even Carol had struck out against Steve. Thor had hit the only homerun of the game, bringing in W. Wilson who’d taken a pretty nasty hit to his ribs, after Val had taken over the plate.

It was pretty well established that you didn’t purposely walk anyone. Except when you were playing Hydra, because they fucking would do it to all your best hitters. So Bucky was off the bench as soon as May was standing up and shifting away from the plate for an intentional walk.

Thor sat back on his heels, bat on his shoulder, staring down the ex-Asgardian. Val had only played one season on the Asgardians before dropping out of the sport when her best friend, and rumored lover, was hit in the head by an errant pitch and had fallen into a coma. She’d only come back to the league a year ago. If anyone knew Thor’s real strength, it would’ve been Val, but she’d left before he’d even finished his college ball days. Even through her mask, May looked just as irritated as Bucky felt.

Thor watched the first two balls go by him but suddenly got ready to swing.

“Odinson!” Fury barked out in warning. It wasn’t uncommon for people to take a stand against the stupid practice by swinging at clear balls just to take control of their at bat again. Close games like this were not the time to do it.

But Thor wasn’t doing that. Instead, he lazily swung at the next pitch, leaning over without stepping out of the box and actually connecting fairly solidly with it. It popped up over Maria’s head at second and rolled to a stop in centerfield. Maria was on it, but Thor was still safely at first before she could even make the throw.

Melinda called time and stalked up to the young pitcher while Thor joked around with Jane Foster on first.

 

*  * *

 

**Game 3: Inning 9: Top: Mar-Vells--3 / Avengers--2**

 

Bucky didn’t have many fears when he was out on the field. Already, one of them had been addressed when he’d thought he was going to find Steve’s face bashed in earlier. Really, the only thing that scared him past that was not being able to complete a play because of his bad arm. Pierce had sat him out for a whole Series once because of it. Not having Bucky on the field was better than having Bucky out when he might fuck up a play.

Doctors weren’t completely sure what kind of injury it was, especially when it kept flaring for months after the initial damage. Definitely something had torn near his rotator cuff, but there was also speculation that either his arm socket, or the head of his humerus had broken and chipped in a way that his body hadn’t, or couldn’t, fix. He’d had surgery after surgery one year, but he still couldn’t shake the sudden dead-arm that overtook him sometimes. It had almost ended his career before he’d even gotten his feet under him.

He should not have dove for the ball.

But, dammit, they were two outs short and there were runners on second and third and they really needed the out. And the ball was coming right at him and there was no way Rand could get around the base fast enough. So Bucky went airborne, snagged the ball and landed hard on his left side. Adrenaline was the only thing that had him reaching out to make the tag as the runner went by. But that was all he was able to do.

It seemed like everyone just expected him to get up because it took a few seconds for Steve to appear by his side, Sam skidding in a few seconds later.

“Are you okay? Come on, let’s go,” Steve said, looking just a little crazed. Bucky groaned and clutched tighter at his arm. “Bucky, come on. Fuck…”

Sam shifted over, slowly peeling Bucky’s hand back and opening up his jersey to look at his shoulder. “You disconnected it,” he said, fingers warm against Bucky’s skin. He looked around and relaxed when Banner came over.

“Hey Barnes,” the doctor said with his oddly soothing gravel voice. Bucky looked from his face to Steve’s and discreetly gripped at the material against Steve’s knee. “Hey, you’re gonna be okay. Wilson’s right. You’ve just dislocated it. We’ll be able to pop it back into place and get you out of here, alright?”

“Hey, at least you weren’t up to bat,” Sam pointed out with a small smile.

“Do you think you’re okay to walk?” Banner asked. “We can get a stretcher out here if you want.”

Bucky looked at Steve again and weakly shook his hand from his glove. “The game ball is still in there,” he muttered. “I can walk,” he said with a nod. Sam took his glove so Steve could take his good arm, helping him up. Bucky leaned into Steve’s side and rejected the urge to hide his face in Steve’s neck. As much as he loved the cameras and attention of this game, he hated them too.

He let himself be ushered off with Banner and only spared a glance back at Steve, finding him wringing his hands around a bat.

 

*  * *

 

**Game 3: Final: Mar-Vells--3 / Avengers--2**

 

“Barnes, I didn’t expect to see you out here again,” Carol greeted as Bucky limped out to the pitcher’s mound with Steve. Turns out, going airborne didn’t just aggravate old injuries, it aggravated hips too.

“Yeah, well, how could I deny you one last look at my pretty face before we get separated until Series play?” he asked.

“You’re not my type, tiger,” she said.

“And you’re not mine. But we’re still pretty to look at.”

Carol laughed and held out her hand. “It was close,” Steve said, shaking it with a smile.

“We’ll call it a draw,” Bucky finished.

“Ah, of course we will,” Carol agreed, eyes shining. “You get better, Barnes. It’s not as much fun beating you if you’re not playing.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

**1942-4-ever**

       Okay, I’m not crazy. Rogers and Barnes are definitely back together

**SRBBfan**

       There’s no way. We’ve all cried wolf before.

**Mar-vell@me**

        Did you see how they reacted each time the other got hurt last night??? I mean, did you see Barnes’ face when he thought Steve had been hit?

**1942-4-ever**

        Exactly!!! It looked like someone had ripped his heart right out of his chest. And when Steve realized Bucky wasn’t moving on the ground? It was literally a movie moment.

**LokiLaughingSon**

        They’re just teammates, guys. That’s what teammates do.

**Brock-Rawmelow**

        Yeah, Wilson was right there too. And Barnes was there to pick Wilson up. Nobody said Wilson and Barnes are fucking.

**4214-2019**

       Wilson and Barnes are definitely fucking, Brock Rumlow Stan confirmed.

**Mar-vell@me**

       No, W^2 are so cute. I don’t wanna jinx that.

**SRBBfan**

       Yeah, a bunch of horny 20-somethings on the internet are gonna break up W^2 when even Steve Rogers’ ass couldn’t do it.

**LokiLaughingSon**

       Are we just gonna ignore that 4214-2019 literally thinks Wilson and Barnes should fuck?

**Mar-vell@me**

       Yeah, the same way we’re gonna ignore who you think should be fucking.

**1942-4-4ver**

       You guys are all a mess. Point being, RogersAndBarnes is officially a thing again and I have to dig out my old URL to celebrate.


	7. Where Sportsmanship, and Fellowship, and Courtesy are the Rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from [the greatest Broadway song ever](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lGkkmd2g2OU)
> 
> While we're on a Broadway kick check out [this awesome show](https://www.roundabouttheatre.org/get-tickets/2018-2019-season/toni-stone/) if you like Baseball!!
> 
> Please follow the links in this chapter, they're a lot of fun

**Quarter-Season Craze**

By: Elvis Guzman

 

This season is off to a wild start. As we round the bases through the season, we’ve hit stint where everyone has gone wild with Baseball Fever. After last week’s scary injury and medical benching, Avengers’ Bucky Barnes was out scouting other teams, including stopping in on the Mar-Vell/Panthers game. During the rain delay, and in his cast and sling, Barnes joined the women on the field for a game of [slip-and-slide on the field covers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=msUKGRvCbMw). He also exchanged words with Panthers third baseman, M’Baku. I’ve never seen Barnes cowed before, but the 6’5”, 250 lbs ball player managed to get Barnes to stand down.

Barnes’ teammate Clint Barton had fun trolling former teammates on the Hydras when he managed to override the PA system and played the [Imperial March ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hNv5sPu0C1E)for the walkup songs for three innings--a jab at the all-black ensemble the Hydras wear. (It did not keep the Hydras from resolutely beating the Guardians.)

Panthers catcher Shuri put herself on a national screen during her [impromptu dance behind her brother](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pwH_OHEbP8Y), and Panthers’ captain, T’Challa during his post-game interview. Also for her trick play against several X-Men batters where she pretended to be talking her brother before dropping into position to take the final strike pitches from Panthers’ pitcher, Nakia. Namor and the Panthers nearly came to blows after he was struck out this way.

That terrible--but a little funny--video of Guardian’s captain Peter Quill [breaking his own nose](https://www.facebook.com/SportsCenter/videos/316395929244647/) in batting practice went viral two days ago and Carol Danvers struck out Brock Rumlow, putting the first K in his ledger. We saw that amazing stop and dive back to the base by X-Men first baseman Storm Munroe to tag Lady Sif out. Avengers Odinson and Cage both [went into a split](https://www.facebook.com/Rangers/videos/2146512385609464/) during the same inning to catch far throws for the out, which left the stands hollering.

I’m not going to lie. Anyone who’s kept up with my career knows I haven’t been the most eager of participants as we watched the game enter a new era of rules, players, and teams. But after stints like this, where I couldn’t immediately tell you the scores but I have plenty of other things to talk about, I realize what everyone else likes so much about the new league practices. No matter who gets to the Series this year, it’s going to be a fun ride.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“You know, I never thought I’d be able to convince you to do late night batting practice again,” Bucky said with a grin, swinging the practice bat from his good arm.

And it was truly a late night session, well past ten o’clock with all the Avengers and coaching staff and cleaning crew and fans having departed hours ago from Stark Stadium. It was a warm night and the darkness was the best kind of company. After the man on the pitcher’s mound, standing behind a protective netting.

“You promised me you wouldn’t hit any at me,” Steve answered, lobbing another ball at Bucky.

Bucky grit his teeth and swung with the stiff arm. They’d been at it for about an hour, long enough that three weeks of PT was starting to mean nothing to the workout. “That’s your fault for believing I could do that,” he said as the ball bounced to a stop around third base.

“You hit me in the face.”

“You didn’t catch the ball.”

Steve glared at him before stalking off to refill the paint pail with the closest set of baseballs. Bucky appreciated his joggers clinging to his ass every time he bent over.

“How’s that arm feeling?” Steve asked when he was back behind the pitcher’s net.

Bucky shrugged and swung the bat in front of him, but couldn’t help the grimace that followed. “It’s fine. I can hit a few more.”

“Buck, I’d rather have you ready to go on Friday than tearing your arm tonight,” Steve called. He looked in the bucket next to him. “Five more, alright? Impress me.”

“I’ve got something right here that’ll impress you,” Bucky said, reaching for his cup and earning a lob into his stomach for the effort.

“Just hit the ball, Barnes,” Steve ordered. Bucky grinned at him and readied himself at the plate, ignoring the twinging in his arm as he held the bat up. Usually, everything melted away when Bucky was up at the plate. Granted, practice was different than games, always. But still, he was too distracted by the ache in his shoulder to just sink into the practice.

He hit one pitch, two, and then gasped as he dropped his bat. He was Bucky fucking Barnes. He wasn’t supposed to drop his bat like that. That was a Wade thing. That was a ‘already underwent a million surgeries, survived horrific things’ thing. Not a two time MVP, All-Star select, straight draft thing.

“Buck…” Steve quickly crossed over to Bucky and reached for his waist, smoothing his other hand over Bucky’s shoulder. “Jesus, what did you let them do to you?” he muttered.

“It’s not just them,” Bucky muttered, bitter and hurt. He leaned his good shoulder into Steve’s chest and curled into something smaller than he’d ever let anyone else see. This was for Steve only. And even if they were still testing the waters with this rekindling, some things were too ingrained in Bucky’s body to keep from happening. He felt safe against Steve’s chest and hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this sanctuary.

“I made stupid mistakes too, pushed myself too hard, didn’t go to medical when I should’ve.” He let out a shaky breath. “I just want it so badly that I can taste it like sand between my teeth. I can’t… I can’t be away from this sport. I don’t even want to try.”

“Your blood is all orange dirt,” Steve said with a small smile. “You remember Ma used to say that?” Bucky nodded and felt a knot in his throat. “Sure, she’d say it to me too when you were there, but once you’d gone back home, she would turn to me and start talking about how you probably got dug up out of the field and given to George one summer-baseball-afternoon.”

Bucky hiccuped with a sudden surge of tears and he curled his fingers into Steve’s jersey. “I miss her so much.” It was part of the reason it became stupidly easy to stay away from Steve after everything fell apart. Steve looked so damn much like Sarah that Bucky could hardly stand to look at him some nights after she’d died. “I wish she was here to see this. Us. In the professional league. God, she dreamed about it more than we did.”

Steve nodded against the top of Bucky’s head where he’d settled his cheek. “I’m glad she wasn’t around to see the last four years though.”

“She woulda told us we were so stupid.”

Steve laughed wetly and nodded. “Woulda knocked our heads together a little sooner, probably.”

Bucky clung onto Steve for a few more minutes until the buzzing of the first late spring bugs started in his ears. “I missed you so much,”  he muttered.

Steve sighed above him. “I missed you too, Buck.”

“I wish we’d handled what happened differently.”

“Me too. I wish I’d tried to talk to you. I know it’s on me. I know that, Buck.”

“I coulda reached out too. I wish I could say the phone was in my hand so many times. But it wasn’t. I just...felt safer not getting your side.”

“We wanted something to be angry at. And we were the first things we saw.”

Bucky let out a long breath and understood how true it was. Everything they’d done was just a snowball of hurt and anger and confusion going down a hill of transition and change. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, Buck. I’ll be better in the future, I promise.”

Bucky nodded, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist. “I will be too.”

 

*  * *

 

**Game 6: Inning 1: Warm-Up: Panthers--0 / Avengers--0**

 

Bucky was still working out his arm on Friday evening while Steve continued to chat with the captain of the Panthers. He rolled his shoulder back and then windmilled his arm. It didn’t hurt half as bad as it had earlier in the week and he was feeling more confident in his performance for the afternoon.

“You are trouble,” a deep voice boomed, getting closer with each word.

Bucky looked up to see what trouble Wade was getting into. Instead, he found a mountain of a man coming at him. Oh, God, not again. Over M’Baku’s shoulder, Shuri had her face in her hands, head shaking.

“I don’t know why you keep saying that. I don’t do anything,” Bucky said, since he’d tucked tail and run at the Mar-Vells game.

“Trouble. Nothing but trouble,” M’Baku repeated.

Bucky looked over his shoulder to Steve, but he was still turned from them. He turned his attention to Thor, but couldn’t find him on the field.

“I’m just here to play ball, man…”

“And that’s a problem. You’re always in the way.”

Bucky blinked twice before frowning. “You’re upset because I’m good at fielding?”

“Maybe you could play behind third, instead of at Short,” M’Baku suggested in the same serious tone, though now a smirk was tugging at his lips.

“If you think the only way you’re going to get on base is if I excuse myself, by all means, don’t let me keep you from success,” Bucky said and immediately thought he’d gone too far with the way M’Baku went still. But then the man broke into a grin and pulled Bucky into a one armed head lock. Bucky didn’t bother fighting. He knew he wasn’t going to win.

“Trouble. You’re trouble!” M’Baku laughed. He pounded his palm against Bucky’s chest twice before releasing him enough that Bucky could stand while M’Baku’s arm remained around Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky wasn’t sure if it was a warning or not. “We will see how fast that glove is. Your outfield will get running practice too.”

It was true. The Panthers were ridiculously powerful and quick. If Bucky wanted to make any play, he was going to need to charge every infield play. He was looking for something sarcastic to say again as M’Baku jostled him around.

T’Challa finally looked over and frowned at them. “M’Baku, you’re vegetarian. You don’t eat meat.” And it sounded like a reminder for some reason instead of just a really out of place fact.

M’Baku grinned and let go of Bucky to amble to the dugout. “No, I don’t eat your meat,” he corrected.

Bucky and Steve turned to stare at each other with matching shocked expressions. T’Challa was practically royalty from what limited information came from Wakanda. If not literal royalty, at least adored and loved. And M’Baku had just made a blow job joke at him?

“Take the field,” Fury called when Bucky and Steve didn’t move fast enough for his taste. But it was hard to concentrate on anything other than not laughing their asses off. 

Game play started despite the fact that they were still trying not to laugh. The Panthers’ catcher, Shuri, was up first. Bucky hadn’t really gotten near Shuri during the Mar-Vell game but she was the most likely Panther to give an interview, so he knew she was young and outgoing, bubbly and funny. Supposedly, she was a strategican on par with Bucky. They were about to find out today, apparently.

Clint was pitching again because Steve had pitched in the X-Men game last week and had been put on medical rest for three more games. It was hard to circumvent that when Banner sat on the bench with them. Bucky wasn’t terribly worried. Sure, Shuri had gotten a few pieces of the ball during the Mar-Vell game, but Val had been pitching and the first batter was not usually the strongest on the team. Just someone who was likely to get on base.

Bucky Barnes was a fucking idiot.

Shuri hit the ball so hard that it literally went by his head so fast that he missed it. He was searching the infield for a grounder.

“Barnes, what are you doing?!” Fury shouted at him.

“Throwing!” Sam shouted, which made Bucky scamper to second to back up the throw. It didn’t matter. By the time Steve had the ball in his glove, Shuri was bouncing up out of her slide and grinning at them.

“So slow,” she tsked. “You should work on your estimation of people, Barnes.”

She was still grinning as Bucky moved back to Short. The coach on the third base line, an intimidating woman with a shaved head and dark decorations on her scalp, shouted something at Shuri in another language--Xhosa, a part of Bucky’s brain that remembered a talk show host chatting with the Panthers in it supplied. Shuri whined something back, but her dancing feet settled on the base as the pitcher, Nakia, came up to the plate.

Bucky knew Nakia would hit a fast grounder, but they should be able to get their bodies in front of it and make the play at first. Bucky got Thor’s attention and dragged a finger from his temple to his ear, signalling for Thor to throw home after the play. He made sure Natasha saw too before letting Clint get on with the game.

Sure enough, Nakia knocked it between Clint’s feet and Steve was able to catch it on a bounce and throw it to Thor who didn’t wait for a call before firing the ball to Natasha. Shuri hit the brakes early enough that she could still dive back to third without being in any risk. Natasha didn’t even throw the ball.

“If only your glove was as quick as your brain,” Shuri taunted, earning another rebuke from her coach.

“Okoye,” Shuri groaned, bringing a hand up to her face.

“That’s not something I think many people would accuse him of,” Sam said while he loitered near the infield/outfield line.

Bucky turned to glare at the man and Sam shrugged with a cheery grin.

Clint pitched a ball, a slider, and a fastball and the Panther up at bat swung at all of them, but that didn’t stop Shuri from _stealing home_. Clint and Natasha tried, but Shuri was already halfway down the line by the time Clint understood what Bucky was squawking at him and could throw the ball. Shuri popped to her feet and preened at her brother coming up to the plate, who just rolled his eyes at her.

“Okoye did not tell you to run,” he said.

“Yeah, but you know how I get when it’s just open and tempting me like that.”

“You still have a lot to learn.”

“I could teach you how to steal, if you’d like,” she offered in that terribly biting way siblings had. Bucky smiled despite himself and dragged his hat over his face to hide it.

 

*  * *

 

**Game 6: Inning 3: Bottom: Panthers--2 / Avengers--1**

 

Clint threw his bat across the dugout as he came back in and Castle glared at him as he kicked it back away. “Don’t throw your fucking shit at my head.”

Clint ignored him in favor of grabbing Bucky’s glove and beating his fist against it a few times. Bucky sat beside him and let out a sigh. “You’re gonna get it next time.”

“Stop fucking saying that!” Clint shouted.

And Bucky totally got it. Clint hadn’t connected with a single ball all season, except to tip them foul. Which didn’t help his batting average any more than called balls did. It was frustrating and it was probably frustrating to have a pretty solid hitter keep telling you that it was going to be okay. Hell, Bucky got irritated when Steve did it to him in college when he _was_ going to get the next one.

“It’s just a bad run, man,” Sam offered, sitting on Clint’s other side and turning his hat backwards. Sam was really good at calming people down. Bucky swore he could control moods and physical reactions to stress and anger. Any time Castle got up in Wade’s face about something, Sam was there to calm them down. When Bucky and Steve disagreed about how to run a practice, Sam put himself between them until one of them relented. And when the players got down on themselves like this, Sam was there to offer a hand or a shoulder or some tough love, if the player was Bucky.

“You’re gonna get past it. Castle did,” Bucky pointed out, rubbing Clint’s shoulder.

“Fury put me in a dead last position,” Clint muttered. And there really wasn’t any arguing that. Clint was hidden in the middle of the line up, the hope being that not too many outs would be on the board by the time he got up. Anyone who played ball knew how to make a halfway decent line up.

“No, Wade and Lang are definitely still below you,” Sam said. But neither Lang nor Wade were in the line up because they weren’t on the field this game.

Thor finally connected on his at bat and Bucky looked away from Clint long enough to watch the ball go sailing over the fence into the stands. As he rounded third, Bucky watched his huge body get pretty much eclipsed by M’Baku’s. It was really unreal how big the guy was. And that itty-bitty waist. It did things to Bucky’s head before Steve crossed in front of him with his own itty-bitty waist. Really, every aspect of Bucky’s type was born out of Steve Rogers and it was getting exhausting. Is that what soulmates were? The thought made Bucky mentally gag, residual hurt and self-consciousness  rising to the surface. Obviously Steve’s type didn’t end at Bucky and it wasn’t fair that Bucky’s ended at Steve.

Steve glanced over his shoulder and shot a wink at Bucky and a grateful smile, glancing at Clint as he grabbed his own bat and helmet.

Then again, there were many worse things than being in love with his best friend.

Bucky stood up to high-five Thor as he came bounding back into the dugout, voice loud and happy, helmet hair standing straight up. Thor wrapped him in a bear hug instead, lifting him off the ground and Bucky yelped but then laughed.

“Your turn, James!” the blond said, heavy hand coming to rest on Bucky’s head once he was on the ground again. “Make the hairstyle proud.”

“I hope my hair don’t look like yours.”

“You _wish_ your hair looked like mine.”

Bucky laughed and let Thor go off to manhandle someone else. “Look, man, you’re gonna be fine,” he said, turning back to Clint. “We all have bad times at it.” He grabbed his bat and helmet, knocking both into Clint’s leg. “Just gotta believe you’re gonna hit the ball. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Clint muttered, hanging his head down.

Bucky’s double didn’t feel so great three minutes later.

 

*  * *

 

**Game 6: Inning 6: Top: Panthers--5 / Avengers--3**

 

Captains weren’t necessarily the best player on the team. They were the ones that were best fit to lead the team, bring them together when the situation called for it, and make the right plays and calls without hesitation or deliberation. Bucky Barnes probably would not be the Avengers team Captain after this season. Sam Wilson would be a great team captain if something ever happened to Steve.

T’Challa just happened to be both. The captain and the best player. Bucky warily watched him come up the plate again and prepared to drop back for a pop up. None of T’Challa’s hits had come anywhere near him, but he wasn’t getting complacent again in this game. M’Baku was on first. They’d only barely managed to hold him there after a miracle play where Steve knocked down his hit and Bucky threw it to Thor to stop the play.

And now T’Challa was here again. It only took two pitches for him to knock one right over Clint and Steve’s heads, all the way into the outfield. It was heading right for Center, but Castle wasn’t moving. He hadn’t even stood up out of the crouch he was in until he suddenly took a step forward and [caught the ball on it’s come down](https://www.facebook.com/mlb/videos/317060322498167/). 

If Shuri had done her homework, M’Baku would not have run past two. And Bucky supposed she had because M’Baku came up on second and eyed third but didn’t make a dash for it, which was a good idea because Castle had thrown the ball all the way to home from where he was in the outfield without hitting a cut-point. Natasha made sure M’Baku wasn’t moving before giving it to Clint. 

“That man cheated,” M’Baku said to Bucky. Or maybe Steve, since he snorted too. “How did he know where the ball was going to be? How was he so confident?”

“Everything Castle does is born out of pure spite. He also has to win every challenge put in front of him  and loves to take the quickest way out of a situation. If you put him in a room full of half guilty men and a gun, he’d just shoot them to get back out,” Bucky said with a shrug.

“He is a cheater.”

“Just good at what he does,” Steve said.

M’Baku laughed and Bucky grinned, getting ready for the next play.

 

*  * *

 

**Game 6: Inning 9: Bottom: Panthers--5 / Avengers--3**

 

Try as hard as Fury had to keep Clint off the plate with the possibility of two outs, he struck out swinging to end the game. It would make a good play in Nakia’s book, but Bucky was stuck in the dugout with his head hung down. Steve passed his fingers through Bucky’s hair where he stood next to him and watched Clint as he crouched by the plate. Shuri was offering words, but it wasn’t going to be good enough for him.

“We have to go to the captain meetings,” Steve muttered, pulling at Bucky’s hair gently before holding the back of his neck. “Let’s not take an unsportsmanlike card just before the series play.”

Bucky nodded but still took too much time to stand. Steve rubbed his back and dropped his hand away as they walked to the pitcher’s mound.

“T’Challa,” Steve greeted with an easy smile. “This team is too much of a powerhouse.”

T’Challa smiled winningly, infuriatingly humble, and ducked his head. “You gave us a good scare. We usually only expect that resistance from the Mar-Vells. Your team has come far since the pre-season games.”

“Well, we’re trying. Congratulations on this win.”

“You made us work for it. We appreciate that. My sister says to thank your men for running into her. No one ever wants to hit her to score.”

“Feels like cheating to get the out that way,” Bucky said. During his first hurt season, there was usually a second of hesitation before someone collided with him and he hated it.

“Exactly, Barnes. And she says thank you to you too. She doesn’t get to throw down very often. You and your stealing-feet kept her on her toes.”

“Buck’s one of the fastest in the league,” Steve agreed. “After Natasha.”

“Ah, yes, she’s the smartest on your team too. Fearless.”

“Hey,” Bucky objected and was met by a relatively flat stare from both of the other men.

T’Challa reached for Steve’s hand to shake it. “Go, be with your team. I hope to see you again in the Series.”

“You have to get through the Mar-Vells first,” Bucky pointed out during his handshake. “Better you than us.”

T’Challa laughed, warm and inviting and Bucky hated that he liked it. This team was making him soft. “Yes, we will do the hard work for you.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Steve laughed and T’Challa fixed him with another beaming smile.

 

**Game 6: Final: Panthers--5 / Avengers--3**

 

*  * *

 

There wasn’t much that even Steve could say to get the team up in spirits again, but Bucky felt like most of them left at least looking forward the tournament play coming up. Bucky let out a long sigh once he was alone in the showers, sinking against the wall as the water poured over his shoulders. The bruise from some weird therapy Banner was having him try was eye catching in the opposite mirror and he was trying not to look at it.

“What’re those noises about?” Steve asked as he came over with towels. Bucky wordlessly held out his arm and Steve passed him a towel. The little shit. Bucky threw it on the changing bench and held out his arm again until Steve chuckled and relented, stepping into Bucky’s hold.

He turned his face into the spray before moving his attention to Bucky. “We may be hitting the Hydras again,” he said.

“Hope so. That’s the only way we’re getting to the Series,” Bucky said with a nod. Steve smiled and gently brushed Bucky’s wet hair out of his face. “I don’t think they’ll be the first round though. We’ve got a good enough record that the X-Men will have to face both of us. We’ll both beat them, and then we’ll face off.”

“You sure about that, Barnes?”

“Hey, who’s the genius here?”

“I wish I knew how you read the game. Wish I knew what went on in your head all the time.”

Bucky snorted and rested his head on Steve’s shoulder. “It’s a lot of monologuing about you.”

“What about me?”

“How hot you are mostly and how much it pisses me off.”

Steve laughed and wrapped his arms around Bucky tighter. “Wanna break in the locker room?”

“Have sex the same place Riley and Sam do?” Bucky asked dubiously.

“Sam uses the last shower to keep people away from him.”

Bucky knew that. Sam kept his shampoo there. Bucky had tried to put Nair in it, but Luke had stopped him with one critical raised eyebrow.

“Come on, baby,” Steve murmured, leaning down to kiss Bucky’s neck and slide his hands down Bucky’s side.

Bucky shivered and dropped his head back. “Maybe I’m tired from the game,” he said, one hand falling to Steve’s ass, the other going to his hair.

Steve hummed and worked a bruise against the curve of Bucky’s shoulder. “I am too,” he assured. “It’ll be fast.”

“Maybe it always is,” Bucky said. He yelped as Steve picked him up to hold him against the wall. “If you drop me, I’m gonna kill you,” he warned, fingers finding Steve’s hair again.

“Yeah, yeah, when have I ever dropped you?” Bucky opened his mouth and Steve hurried on. “Don’t actually answer that. I know.”

He got his mouth on Bucky’s chest and Bucky moaned, head falling back against the wall as his hips worked against Steve’s abdomen.

From within the locker rooms, they couldn’t hear the lights power down on the fields or Fury leave for the night or any of the stalling cars leave the parking lot. It was fine. No one heard them either. No reporter got their hands on moans echoing off of the walls, no teammates could tease them about the keening and whining and pleading, no reprimands came. And most importantly…

“I love you,” Bucky murmured, all apology and forgiveness.

Steve’s eyes widened and got a little wet. “I love you too, Buck.” Five years too long.

“‘Til the end of the line.”

Steve laughed and nodded. “‘Til the very end of the line.”


	8. We're Gonna End This Thing With Just One Swing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from [one of my favorite baseball songs ever](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=utoVbSzAcWw) (yeah, I know the video's trash but I wasn't about to put a video up of a team or player I didn't like)

 

 **Series Line Up  
**By: Victoria Stone

 

Even though it feels like the season just started, we’re already to Series play. Sometimes, the tournament leading to the World Series is even better than the Series itself. Here’s what to expect over the next few weeks.

 

The **Avengers** will face off against the **X-Men**

The **Hydras** will face off against the **winner**

 

The **Mar-Vells** will face off against the **Guardians**

The **Panthers** will face off against the **winner**

 

The winner from each set of rounds will go on to face each other in the Series.

 

**EDIT:**

The Avengers and Hydra will face each other in the final third of their tournament, after two stunning defeats in a row for the normally strong X-Men team. Apparently Avengers pitcher Clint Barton had something to prove because he threw his first no hitter. And it was truly a golden game. Literally no bat hit the ball, except to foul a pitch off every few batters. Storm nor Logan could get wood to connect with leather, along with the rest of their team. It’s the first golden game in BML Series history.

 

 

 

 

“What’re we rappin’ with Cap?” Wade asked loudly, pulling Steve’s earbuds out of his ears while they warmed up in the Zola Stadium weight room. Easy going big band music filled the air around them and Sam tsked about tinnitus. Steve unplugged his earbuds so everyone could actually hear.

“Oh, wait, I know this song,” Bucky said. Steve glanced over at him, a blush creeping over his cheeks. “Wait, is this the playlist we used to use for dinner dates?”

Half the team pretended to gag before getting back to their stretches and pumping up.

“C’mere,” Bucky ordered, holding his arm out as he untangled himself from the machine he was using to stretch his arm out. Steve sighed, but followed after him. They folded together nicely, melting into each other’s arms as they swayed to the music. Bucky had missed this, missed this music. It was one thing to go out with Natasha and hook up with the guys he met, but the dancing was never the same as it was with Steve. They were just intuitive of each other.

When Steve shifted, Bucky let him spin him out and then back in with the trilling of trumpets in the background. Steve dipped him low and Bucky laughed. God, how had he ever lived without this?

When the song shifted to _T[he Baseball Boogie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lmhj9sA0ojM) _, they really got into it. Steve started out making Bucky do all the work, quick hip twists, shin kicks between Steve’s legs as he tilted his hips out of the way of Steve’s. Steve guided him in a blind, backwards spin around Steve’s back. Someone wolf whistled, but Bucky was too focused on Steve and the little tells of his body. They spun one more time before Steve took on the faster role, letting Bucky lead.

Bucky spun them in tight circles, rubber floor snagging on their de-spiked cleats, hands clasped with arms above their head. Bucky eventually freed himself to hold Steve’s waist tightly, expanding their circles until he was tossing Steve back and forth in easy spins. Steve slowed them down with a quick series of inward leg bends until Bucky relented and let him take the lead

Steve spun them a few times, keeping Bucky turning in tight circles along the length of his arm and back out before Bucky dropped down and Steve pulled him through his own legs, letting go of Bucky’s hand as Bucky jumped up behind him.

It was too much spinning and Bucky stumbled back until he could sit on a machine seat. Scattered applause followed him, and at least it brought up the energy in the room. Steve joined him on the machine, laughing and flushed.

“God, I can’t remember the last time I danced. I haven’t even been out with Peggy.”

Bucky grinned over at him, just stupidly adoring. “You don’t dance like a man who hasn’t been out.”

“Neither do you.”

“Hey, you know Nat kept me honest,” Bucky laughed. They both looked over where she was locked in an intense conversation with Barton, obviously a pep talk. Their hands were linked together, a rare form of PDA from the notoriously private couple. Bucky wasn’t even sure if the league and fans were aware they were together. Between Natasha’s flirty personality and everyone’s assumption she’d go for the best and hottest, most people’s eyes didn’t fly to the little moments Clint and she shared constantly.

“Are you ready?” Steve asked when Bucky’s eyes caught on the weight room he’d poured so much sweat and blood into. All of that, washed away like the rest of him.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever ever been more ready for something,” he said seriously, looking at Steve clearly. It felt nothing like the first game of the season. “Pops is out in the stands.”

“No way,” Steve said, eyes going wide.

Bucky nodded. “I had to beg some box tickets off of Fury, but he’s here. There’s a TV in the box if it gets to be too much strain on his eyes.”

“Bucky that’s amazing. How long as it been since he’s seen you in person?”

Bucky shrugged and took a deep breath. “Years. It was hard enough to get tickets off the Hydras, much less for someone who might not be able to make it.” He looked at his fingers before finding Steve’s eyes again. “Fury didn’t even question me once I said it was for my old man.”

“No. No one should,” Steve said. He got an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and pulled him close.

“I think he’s actually more excited to see you,” Bucky laughed, leaning into Steve’s side. “He was feeling real good last night. I think he’s gonna really enjoy the game.”

Steve kissed Bucky’s head and pulled him close. “He loves you so much, Buck.”

“Becs says he keeps singing [The Boys Are Back In Town](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQo1HIcSVtg)and won’t stop.”

Steve laughed and nodded. “Yeah, that was his favorite when he caught us doing something stupid.”

“And we were always doing something stupid.”

“Yeah, we were,” Steve agreed with a smile. “We better go knock ‘em dead.”

Bucky nodded and stood quickly. “Let’s get out there.”

 

* * *

 

**Game 8: Inning 1: Top: Hydra--0 / Avengers--0**

 

Bucky stepped onto the field and kneeled down just out of the way of the dugout opening. He grabbed a handful of dirt and rubbed it over the back of his neck and into his hair, hat falling to the ground. This was a field he knew. This was a team he knew. Hell, he knew the Avengers. They could do this. He’d given them as much information as he could. This game was going to be easy. It was retribution. They’d earned this.

Someone hip-checked his shoulder and when Bucky looked up, Rumlow was blocking out the sun. “All your superstitious fuckery ain’t gonna help you, Barnes,” he sneered. Bucky threw the rest of the dirt in his hand at Rumlow’s shins and stood up so they were eye level.

“Get fucked,” he said, before stepping back into the dugout to psych up the batters.

The line up had changed _again_ and at this point, Bucky was pretty certain Fury was trying to give him an aneurysm. Natasha was up first and she was bouncing around the mouth of the dugout, buttoning and unbuttoning her jersey.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright,” Bucky said, resting an easy hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged him off. “I know that. I just want to hit the shit out of the ball.”

“I’ll pay real money to see you make Rumlow fall on his ass.”

Natasha laughed and knocked her fist into Bucky’s shoulder. “You better bring me home.”

“Always, Romanov.”

Steve was pacing by the back edge of the dugout, watching the warm up and the new pitcher they’d put up on the mound. He’d only pitched in the last few games, but he was stronger than whatever idiot they’d replaced Barton with at the beginning of the season. And he was fast. And his white hair was giving Bucky a headache in the afternoon sun.

“The X-Men want to recruit him,” Bucky said, coming up by Steve’s side.

“Yeah, they could use a strong pitcher. They’d probably draft his sister up too.”

“She’s a hell of an outfielder. Hydra should’ve brought her up.”

“Only team in the league without a woman in the line up.”

Bucky shook his head and watched the field until it was time for Natasha to go out. “We’re gonna win this thing, right?” he asked, looking at Steve.

“Focus on hitting the ball and we won’t have to worry about possibilities.”

“I always hit the ball.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything. Bucky scowled back.

Natasha hit a single and then Riley hit a double and then Steve got out and hit a triple-on-errors. It was the best run they’d had all season.

Sam brought Steve in, but got thrown out at first, which meant Bucky was coming up on empty bases, which he kind of preferred. No damn pressure.

He hit a homerun anyway.

 

* * *

 

**Game 8: Inning 3: Bottom: Hydra--2 / Avengers--5**

 

Rumlow was a decent player. Bucky hadn’t ever had to share the field with him but it was hard to deny his stats. Even so, he wasn’t a slugger. He had a great batting average and he could get on base, but he rarely knocked it out of the park or got around second. And he struggled against Barton for some reason, despite his constant teasing and nagging.

Clint was a crazy good sidewinder. His wind up and left handed release threw most people off for the first few innings. For Rumlow, it meant timing the ball’s curve back towards homeplate took too long, especially since Rumlow sat forward in the box. Bucky didn’t know why he didn’t just step back. Maybe it had something to do with the strike coming at the last moment and so Rumlow tried to force a ball call by sitting forward. Maybe it was the hefty fine and suspension he got after hitting a catcher with his bat twice in one game. Whatever it was, it meant he was not strong against Clint.

He racked up two strikes before connecting with the ball. It went speeding by Clint’s side and he couldn’t quite knock it down. Bucky was already running to cover second to tag the base runner out, so he saw Steve drop back instead of running up on the ball. He knocked the ball towards Bucky with the side of his glove and Bucky was able to tag up on the base and throw to Thor to get the out at first just before Rumlow stepped on the bag.

“What the hell was that?” Rumlow shouted, gesturing wildly at Steve and looking at the base running umpire.

“There’s no rule that they have to throw with their hands,” the ump said with a shrug. It felt like the first time all season the umps were on Bucky’s side.

“He’s not the one batting! He can’t just hit the ball where it needs to go.”

“Get off the field, player,” the umpire warned. Karpov didn’t seem terribly rushed to remove his star from the line of fire. Bucky hoped it ended in a suspension. At least for the rest of the game.

But Rumlow pulled his head out of his ass and stalked to the dugout. Clint turned to grin at Bucky and it was the happiest Bucky had seen him in weeks. Bucky threw him a lazy salute and jogged back to Short.

“That’s the kind of thing I expected to see playing on a team with RogersAndBarnes,” Luke chuckled. 

Bucky looked over at him, a little frown pulling his brows down. “What do you mean?”

“You know, just that that teamwork, those trick plays, that’s what I expected from two guys who know each other better than Wade’s foot knows his mouth.”

Bucky laughed and scratched a hand through his hair before settling his cap down again. “Well, hopefully we’ll keep it up for the rest of the game.”

“I think you’re gonna keep it up for longer than that.”

Bucky smiled and glanced over at Steve who was already hollering plays and encouragement again.

 

* * *

 

**Game 8: Inning 5: Bottom: Hydra--4 / Avengers--5**

 

Rollins was, surprisingly, the strongest hitter on the team. Karpov was an idiot who liked to bat him first in the line up. Rollins was also one of the most consistent batters in the league. Which meant that every time he was up to the plate, the outfield could move back, the infield could shift to long popfly coverage and it was a little easier to stop the play.

Sure enough, Rollins hit an inside curveball, catching it deep enough in the box to send it flying to left field. Bucky ran back for it, but there was no way he was getting to it, especially once it curved in the sky towards center. Sam took off after it, kicking up dirt behind him as Castle came in the other way.

In all the time with the Avengers, Bucky hadn’t seen Castle go all out for a pop-up once. Sam and Riley were fast enough that anything that would make Castle work, he left to them. Sam walked away from games with a bloody face and Riley was known for climbing the back wall to steal a home run, but not Castle.

So Bucky was more than surprised to realize the person shouting “Call off! Call off!” was, in fact, Castle. Just before tragedy could strike and both men were going to run into each other, Sam fell into a slide and Castle leapt over him to grab the ball in midair. He tumbled to the ground but popped up, holding his glove over his head.

And when the next batter came up and popped one right between Riley and Castle, Riley dove for the ball but didn’t quite get his glove open under it, but it didn’t matter because it bounced off his glove right into Castle’s without ever hitting the ground. Castle and Riley stared at the ball in his glove before Castle held it up as proof. Bucky saw Castle shake himself out of the oddity and high-adrenaline play as he walked back to Center.

And then the next ball went right over Castle’s head, heading for the back wall and Castle pulled a Riley, jumping up on the wall to hook and arm over the top of the foam so he could lift himself up high enough to make the snag. Bucky was pretty certain that had never happened before in Zola Stadium history. The backdrop was too tall to jump over. Home runs didn’t get stolen here. Especially not Hydra homeruns.

Castle had to deal with the team piling on him for the first time ever. Everyone was whooping and hollering, jumping over him and congratulating him. It was unbelievable to Bucky. He hadn’t seen an inning like that since high school days.

“Yeah, yeah, enough. Get offa me,” Castle muttered as he shoved everyone out of his way. “If anyone else could do their job, it wouldn’t fall to me.”

It was enough to leave everyone else scoffing and rolling their eyes, though they were still jostling Castle as they drained into the dugout.

 

* * *

 

**Game 8: Inning 8: Top: Hydra--8 / Avengers--5**

 

“You’ve gotta finish the game, Rogers,” Clint said, forcing a game ball into Steve’s glove. 

“No way. I’m not pulling you off the mound,” Steve said, shaking his head and pushing the ball back. “It was one bad inning.”

“I’m not in the right headspace. I’m about to go strike out and cost us the game. You have to finish it.”

“If Steve finishes the game, you’re never going to stop hearing it from Rollins and Rumlow and Hydra. Pierce will talk about what a relief it was to trade you away,” Bucky pointed out.

“Easy enough for you to throw that in my face. Pierce offered to buy you back.”

“I’m not Pierce’s property anymore,” Bucky said with a shrug. “And neither are you. But if you let this team freak you out, you might as well still be under his thumb.” Bucky sighed and held onto Clint’s hair loosely. “You know this game. We played it for years. Intimidate, coerce, hurt, win. You know how to step away from all of that.”

“What do I do?” Clint asked, watching Luke step out of the warm up circle to take the plate.

“Hit the damn ball, Barton,” Bucky said.  He shoved Clint’s head lightly and grabbed his bat for him. “Come on. You’re gonna knock it out of the fucking park because it’s the last thing Rollins is expecting. You’re gonna shove it in Karpov’s face that he always put a pinch hitter in for you You’re gonna make Rumlow work for this shit. Say fuck you to Pierce.”

Clint nodded along with Bucky, eventually shouting along with him, repeating his words and taking his bat to get up to the warm up circle.

“You’re kind of good at that,” Steve said.

“Don’t get any ideas about fucking off and leaving me alone to do it on my own,” Bucky warned.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. You’re not that good.”

Bucky smacked Steve’s arm but stilled as Clint came up to bat. He crossed his arms over his chest and danced around a little bit while he watched a strike and ball go by.

“It’s going to be a drop,” he muttered, kicking the toe of his cleat against the metal fence. “He’s not looking over. I can’t signal to him.”

“He knows as well as you do,” Steve assured. “He sees it.”

And apparently Clint did because he moved up in the box, ready to catch the drop early, instead of risking Rollins' glove getting in the way. Bucky’s heart hammered in his chest as Maximoff let go of the ball and Clint got ready to swing.

And he connected! Bucky sprung up against the fence, clinging onto the chainlink tightly as he watched Clint round the bases like a mad man. He slid into second under Rumlow’s glove and knew better than to move until he heard the ball pop into Maximoff’s glove. As he stood up, he looked to the dugout and him and Bucky did the same leaping celebration when they caught each other’s eyes.

“Maybe I could leave you and your magic words alone with the team,” Steve hummed.

Bucky swatted his arm again, but couldn’t stop the euphoria in his chest.

 

* * *

 

**Game 8: Inning 9: Top: Hydra--8 / Avengers--6**

 

The bases are loaded, there're two outs on the board, and Bucky’s staring down Maximoff, ignoring Rollins behind him and aiming for the open sky over Brock Rumlow’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real MLB season is a lot longer. They're already into the 30s and not even close to the Series. For the sake of not making you read 200,000 words playing the same six teams, I've reduced it greatly.
> 
> Also this tournament is not quite the way it goes. Listen, I'm trying but there's a deadline!!


	9. What You'd Call a Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from the [most important song for this fic](https://open.spotify.com/track/38dFpu0gvYs8eQ66Ii28js) Please listen to it this time at least.

**Game 8: Inning 9: Top: Hydra--8 / Avengers--6**

 

The bases are loaded, there’re two outs on the board, and Bucky’s staring down Maximoff, ignoring Rollins behind him and aiming for the open sky over Brock Rumlow’s head. For a second, one foot in the box and one foot out of the box, Bucky let his eyes move to the stands. He found Danvers and Maria and followed their eye line to Monica, along with Maggie and Anna, and Ashley. From there, he found Becca, always too easy with her loud voice and obnoxious, embarrassing signs. The sun was bright and hot and warmed Bucky’s skin just the way he wanted it to.

He looked up to the big boxes and found his father’s face like there wasn’t five hundred feet and plexiglass between them. No glare could keep Bucky from finding his dad in the crowd. 

And Bucky saw him wave.

Bucky lifted his hand back, a slow grin pulling at his mouth. 

“Get on with it, Barnes,” Rollins barked.

Bucky kicked dirt towards him as he dug his feet into the soft, loose dirt of home plate. He knocked his bat on the base, up down left right, _father son and holy ghost of baseball please God my dad’s watching don’t let me disappoint him_.

The sun was pounding down on his face and Maximoff let go of a nasty slider that clipped the outside corner and got Bucky his first strike. But his drop didn’t drop and that was a ball. And the cutter was inside, so that was two.

Bucky waited for the fastball. It was definitely going to be a fastball. It had to be. And he swung when it came over the bag.

 

* * *

 

_Bucky was already half asleep against his dad’s side. The Midnight Christmas mass was too much for the five year old and Becca had been fussy and taken all the attention. Besides, George Barnes was warm and Bucky still hadn’t shaken the cold of the outside out of his hair yet._

_“Do you really think he’s ready for this?” Winnifried asked dubiously._

_“Of course he is! He’s been getting into my old gear. He might as well have something that fits him.”_

_Bucky slowly perked up because he was the only other ‘he’ in the living room. He hadn’t seen an extra gift hiding around, but he also hadn’t looked too much, wanting to get the empty seat by his dad before the baby was deposited there instead._

_George took a gift bag from Winnifried, who already had the camera out again. Bucky took the handles of the bag, but it was too heavy for him to haul onto the couch by himself, so George helped, settling it between them._

_“Are you ready, Jimmy? Take all the paper out.” Bucky laughed and dug into the gift, throwing the wrapping paper into the air and watching it flutter down around him again. “Good job, tiger! Alright, what’s in there, huh? Take it out.”_

_Bucky kneeled on the couch to see into the bag and then gasped before quickly pulling out a baseball bat, a glove, and a real baseball._

_“Mine?” he asked, eyes wide and adoring._

_George smiled at him and nodded. “All yours, bud. Me and you can go toss that ball around some tomorrow if you’re feeling up for it.”_

_Bucky nodded so vigorously it made his head hurt. “I wanna play catch all day!” They already did, but Bucky’s dad’s glove was way too big for Bucky to use. Mostly it fell off his hand._

_“All day is a long time in the cold. We’ll talk about a quick game,” Winnifried corrected when George didn’t immediately speak up. Twin looks of hurt met her and she sighed before waving her hand to the side.  “Boys!” she sighed in defeat._

_And Bucky and George did play ball all day. And when they came in and Bucky’s little hand was bruised from the cold and the pressure, his dad wrapped his hands in warmers and made chilli for him, chattering about his old baseball days and all the cool things he did and all the cool things Bucky could do._

_“And one time, Dickie and I were going for the same ball. What should we do?”_

_“Call it!” Bucky said with a wide grin, staring at his father with his cold hands tucked under his chin, leaned over the pot of chilli for extra warmth._

_“Well, we didn’t do that. We ran right into each other!”_

_Bucky gasped and held his hands over his eyes, as if he could stop the image in his brain that way. “What happened?”_

_“The ball fell right between us! The batter got all the way to third!”_

_“No!”_

_“Yes!”_

_“What position do you think I’m gonna play?”_

_“Well, maybe catcher.”_

_“No! That’s scary!”_

_“What, you’re gonna let yourself be scared of the game? How are you gonna get any good at it, huh? You keep running away and it’s gonna beat you, instead of you beating it.”_

_Bucky stared up at his dad like he had all of the answers in the whole world. “What’s the most important position?”_

_“Well, that depends on who you ask…”_

_“What position did you play?”_

_“I was a short-stop mostly.”_

_Bucky nodded, though he didn’t remember what short-stop was. “That’s what I want to be then.”_

_George smiled and ruffled Bucky’s hair. “You can be anything you wanna be, Jimmy. And you’re gonna be great at it. Way better than me.”_

_Bucky tucked himself against his dad’s legs. “No one’s better than you at nothin’. I love you.”_

_“I love you more, kiddo.”_

 

_* * *_

 

_Bucky didn’t really remember what happened. Just that someone had hit the ball and then Bucky opened his eyes, staring at the stadium lights above him._

_“Jimmy?!” someone shouted._

_“Bucky?!” someone else shouted._

_Suddenly two bodies were collapsing over Bucky and the twelve year old only saw swimming colors for a minute. He tried to say something, but his mouth hurt worse than anything had ever hurt before. Slowly, Steve’s face came into focus. There were dark circles under his eyes, probably from whatever illness he’d had that had kept him up all week. He looked miserable, tears in his eyes and a crazed look as his hand hovered over Bucky’s body._

_“Move over, Steve, it’s okay,” the first voice said, pushing Steve aside so he was now over Bucky’s face._

_“Dad?” Bucky mumbled. Something hot and slick ran over his chin and cheeks and he felt it soak into his jersey a few seconds later._

_“Oh, no,” Steve whispered and Bucky could hear the horror in it. Like the night they’d been camped out in the living room and George had told them that Winnifried had died._

_Was Bucky dying?_

_“Excuse me, excuse me,” new voices called. George didn’t move and Steve only shifted closer to the older man. George took a towel from someone and gently wiped Bucky’s face clean._

_“We should fix his nose,” someone else._

_“Sit him up,” another added._

_“No, keep his head tilted back or he’ll choke.”_

_“He’ll choke on the ground.”_

_“Can I have the ice, please?” George asked calmly. Bucky must have made up the tremor in his hands._

_Cold ice was suddenly against his nose and it hurt so bad. Bucky cried out, hand falling to his dad’s knee until Steve took it in his own._

_“It’s alright, Buck. Ain’t nothing, alright?” Steve said._

_“Can you tell us what hurts?” a voice asked._

_Bucky shook his head in the dirt and whined softly, fingers tightening in Steve’s. “Everything…” He gestured with his gloved hand to his face and felt a new stream of tears start down his temples.”_

_“His lip is caught between his teeth.”_

_“Don’t make him talk.”_

_“Call an ambulance.”_

_“It’s already on the way.”_

_“This is what you get for having a gap in your teeth,” Steve said, drawing Bucky’s wild gaze towards the other young boy._

_“Wha--”_

_“You got beaned in the face by a ball,” he continued, pushing his fingers through Bucky’s hair so it was out of his face. Bucky couldn’t tell if his fingers actually came away red or not._

_Bucky wanted to ask a million more questions, but he couldn’t make his mouth work with him without a ton of pain. More than he was willing to fight through. He squeezed his hand in Steve’s and closed his eyes, listening to his dad soothing voice._

 

_The next time he opened his eyes, he was in a hospital bed. He shifted around, bringing a hand to his mouth. He was met with gauze and bandages. There was a heavy plastic mask across the middle of his face._

_“Hey, Champ, how are you doing over there?”_

_Bucky’s head lolled until he found his dad in the chair next to his bed._

_“They think you’ll be all good to go in a few hours.”_

_Bucky brought his hand up to his face and George sighed, shifting over to hold Bucky’s hands between his so he’d stop messing with the mask. “They put a mask on to help straighten your nose. And to keep your curious little hands away from it. And there’re a few stitches on the inside of your lip. Can you talk to me about your head?”_

_Bucky closed his eyes again, realizing how comfortable he was just laying there and not answering any questions. “Hurts a little bit.”_

_“Like what?”_

_Bucky shrugged. “I dunno. Like a bruise. Like I can feel my heartbeat in my brain.”_

_George hummed and rubbed Bucky’s hands. “You’re gonna be just fine. You gave us a scare there.”_

_“Stevie?”_

_“His mom took him home a little bit ago. He’s going to be so upset he only missed you by a few minutes. But he’s already planning on being at the house in the morning. I think Sarah is bringing over some dessert for you. She’s too nice to you.”_

_Bucky nodded and looked at his dad again. “Did you think I was gonna die?” he asked, though it came out kind of slurred, kind of lispy when he noticed the feeling of the stitches dragging against his teeth and gums._

_“No, James. I didn’t think you were going to die. Did you?”_

_Bucky thought of Steve’s terrified eyes and slowly nodded._

_“Well, I never doubted it. You’re too strong to die. Got too much to do.”_

_Bucky nodded before looking stricken. “Where are my things?”_

_George laughed and shook his head. “What did I raise on that field, huh? Your things are fine. I can’t believe that’s up there with dying on your list.”_

_Bucky tried to glare at him, but his eyes were too swollen for it to make much of a difference._

_“Your uniform is gonna have to be replaced though. Again. As if you growing three inches every year ain’t killer enough.”_

_Bucky tried to look at what he was wearing, but the mask kept him from being able to tilt his head down too far._

_“I’m not dying?” he asked again. Because this was scary. Things hurt and he was in a hospital and Steve wasn’t there. Just like his mom had been in the hospital, in pain, and Bucky hadn’t been allowed to be there._

_George smiled softly, a little sad, and brought Bucky’s fingers up to his mouth. “You’re not dying. You’re stuck with me for a little bit longer.”_

_“I wanna be here. Don’t wanna leave you too.”_

_“Leave me too?” George asked._

_“Like Mom did,” Bucky said smally._

_George’s face fell. “Oh, Jimmy, no. Of course not. Never.” He shifted so he was half kneeling on the bed, drawing Bucky into his arms. “That’s not what happened. You’re alright. Don’t worry about any of that.”_

_Bucky hugged him back and nodded. “I’m sorry. I’ll catch it next time.”_

_George laughed, shocked and wet. “It’s okay. You miss the ball sometimes. That’s all. We get through it.”_

_“And we catch it next time,” Bucky insisted._

_George nodded, looking at his son. “We catch it next time, yeah.”_

 

_* * *_

 

_“Will you shut up? You’re gonna get us caught,” Bucky hissed, though he immediately broke into laughter as Steve kicked his legs up and sent the blanket over them flying._

_Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck and pulled him into another kiss. The floor was digging into his spine but he didn’t care, as long as Bucky was over him, grinning at him like that._

_“And what if we did get caught?” he teased lowly, threading his fingers through Bucky’s hair. He always grew it out over summer, so it tufted out from the edges of his cap whenever he played in the playoffs in July. He was handsome as anything Steve had ever seen. “Your dad wouldn’t care.”_

_“You don’t know that,” Bucky muttered, kissing over Steve’s jaw slowly._

_“Mmm,” Steve hummed, letting Bucky distract him for a second. He heard the noise from the movie playing on Bucky’s laptop, outside of their makeshift blanket fort but it wasn’t half as important. “Your old man loves you more than anyone I ever seen love anyone.”_

_“Except your ma,” Bucky agreed, working a little mark below Steve’s ear. He made sure it would only be pink, only for a few minutes, no risk of getting caught._

_“Yeah, except her,” Steve conceded. It was hard not to concede that kind of thing._

_“Can we stop talking about my dad now?”_

_Steve made a sound of agreement and Bucky went back to kissing his neck, down to his collarbones. He kept his hands securely against Steve’s hips, nowhere further south, unless he went all the way down to Steve’s knees to pull a leg around his hip. Not that Bucky had a lot of purity culture left in his head after going to a public school in Brooklyn all his life and playing on more baseball teams than he could count, but something just didn’t feel right about trying to start anything more yet. Not that he had any doubt in his mind it was going to be Steve for the rest of his life, but fifteen felt young. Maybe it was because all the guys on his select team were seventeen and he knew some of them hadn’t even been kissed yet, even though a lot of them had whole herds of girls following them around to the games._

_Besides, Steve never acted none like he wanted more. And he was more Catholic than Bucky was. So it was fine. They didn’t have to do nothing else. Except kiss the hell out of Steve. Bucky ducked back down for another kiss and found Steve’s hand against his side, tangling their fingers together. “I love you, Stevie,” he murmured._

_Steve grinned and kissed him again. “Yeah, handsome, I know you do.”_

_Bucky flipped them so Steve’s scrawny body was over his own and Steve laughed loudly before holding a hand over his mouth, eyes still shining at Bucky. “Sorry,” he mumbled against his palm. He settled on his knees over Bucky’s hips, sat back on his thighs. “You look real good like this.”_

_“Like what?” Bucky asked with an easy grin._

_“Sprawled out and pinned down._

_“Kinky.”_

_The blush that spread over Steve’s face was worth the embarrassing image. “You’re the worst.”_

_“Oh, yeah, I bet,” Bucky laughed. He curled his fingers in the collar of Steve’s shirt and pulled him down into another kiss. Steve rucked Bucky’s shirt up to his armpits, command clear. By the time they managed to part again, both of them were tugging their shirts off, hands exploring skin they both knew by heart._

_Suddenly though, the heat of the blanket was gone, bright light streaming over them._

_“Oh my God!” Becca shouted, standing over them and looking like the most stunned ten year old in the history of ten year olds. It lasted about two/tenths of a second before she was turning on her heel and running for the stairs. “I’m telling dad!”_

_“Becca!” Bucky shouted, moving Steve off his lap before tearing after his sister. “Becca! Stop! Listen to me!” he shouted. He tried to grab her wrist, but she slipped around the corner into their dad’s small office._

_“Dad! Bucky was kissing and touching Steve!” she shouted before Bucky got a hand around her mouth._

_To his credit, George Barnes managed to only blink a few times before Becca bit Bucky and Bucky shoved her away. “Hey, hey, hey!” he shouted, putting himself between his kids, keeping an eye on the fist curled against his son’s side. “Becca, go to your room. Not Bucky’s room. Not the living room. Go to your room and shut the door.”_

_“Stay out of my room!” Bucky shouted as Becca slunk to the door._

_“I saw them,” she repeated. George had his hand on Bucky’s shoulder before his son could dive after her. As such, he felt how badly Bucky was shaking._

_“Dad!” he whimpered, turning to look at George, tears in his eyes. “It ain’t like that! She didn’t--”_

_George pulled Bucky into a hug, wrapping his arms around his son tightly. Bucky was just about as tall as George, but he folded himself right into his dad, arms slowly coming around his dad’s waist._

_“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Bucky broke down, clutching at his dad’s shirt. “I was gonna tell you...”_

_“When you moved out?” George guessed. He could feel Bucky’s blush burn hotter against his shoulder where Bucky had hidden his face. “It’s okay, Jimmy. It’s okay, really.” He leaned down to kiss the top of Bucky’s head gently. “Come on, you didn’t think I had no clue, did you?” he asked. It was supposed to be a joke, but suddenly Bucky was sobbing and shaking so badly that George had to put Bucky in the desk chair or drop him._

_“James, look at me,” George ordered, holding his hand against Bucky’s cheek, wiping away tears as much as he could. “I love you, alright? Nothing is ever going to change that. You’re my kid, my son. My first born. But even if you weren’t any of that, if I just knew your beautiful soul as a kid on the street, this wouldn’t change how much I care about you.”_

_“I was gonna tell you. I didn’t mean to lie. And I-I-I tried…”_

_George frowned and brushed Bucky’s hair away from his cheeks. “Tried what, kiddo? I’m so sorry if I didn’t hear you before.”_

_“No… I tried to be normal. But it’s Stevie and I…”_

_“Oh, kid, you are normal,” George promised. “You’re everything I coulda wanted in a kid. And I know. I know how much Steve means to you. You ain’t never tried to hide that. I get it, alright? I couldn’t ever judge you for that.”_

_Bucky drew in more sobbing breaths and pitched forward to lean against his dad’s chest again. “I’m sorry.”_

_“Jimmy, stop apologizing. You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for, alright? I’m sorry your sister did this to you.” Then again, she was ten and maybe it was a little bit of George’s own fault. Maybe he made it seem like this was something Bucky would want to hide, that Beccca had to tattle on. “I’m so sorry if I haven’t been there for you, James. But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”_

_Bucky sniffled and nodded and George lifted Bucky’s head up. “Hey, you’re still my best friend, right?” he asked, smiling softly._

_Another sob escaped from Bucky and he nodded jerkily. “Yeah, yeah, Dad. We’re still...still...best friends,” he finally got out, voice wobbly._

_“That’s a good kid,” George sighed, pulling Bucky into another hug. “Come on, calm down. Stop those tears, alright?”_

_Bucky nodded again, bringing his hands up to his face to wipe them clear. It lasted for a few minutes before he was crying again. “Sorry. Sorry. Just…”_

_“It’s okay. It’s okay. Let’s go to the bedroom,” George said, reaching for Bucky’s wrist. Bucky stood and followed after his dad to the bedroom connected to the office. George turned on the lights and a stand fan before depositing Bucky in front of it._

_“How did you know?” Bucky asked, looking over at him once he’d controlled the tears again._

_“Jimmy, you used to propose to him any time you got a ring pop,” George said. It startled a laugh out of Bucky and he hiccuped right afterwards. “I’d have to be a really bad dad not to realize how much you loved that kid.” He fell silent and played with his fingers for a second before looking at Bucky again. “How long have you two been going together?”_

_Bucky hiccuped a few more times as he turned answers over in his head. It was hard to tell exactly when it happened. “I guess… Seventh grade? ‘S when I kissed him the first time.”_

_George’s eyebrows shot up. “You kissed him when you were thirteen?”_

_Fresh tears welled in Bucky’s eyes and he quickly reached out for Bucky’s hand. “No, no, no, that’s not what I mean. Just...you know, that’s a long time. Not to be able to tell anyone.”_

_“Especially your best friend,” Bucky ventured. George sighed and shifted over next to Bucky to wrap an arm around his shoulders and kiss his head again._

_“I’m so sorry, Jimmy. I promise I’ll be better in the future.”_

 

_* * *_

 

_Bucky was in a bad mood. His head hurt, he was pretty sure he bombed a biology test, and Steve had gotten sick again, even though everyone thought he was over that. After he’d shot up and filled out their summer before Junior year, he’d gone the whole semester and most of this one without so much as a runny nose. And now he was back on bed rest. It wasn’t fair._

_He roughly let himself into the house, expecting to be alone with Becca at softball practice and his father still at work. So he thought he was pretty justified in jumping out of his skin and throwing his keys at the figure on the couch._

_“Ow, what the hell, Jimmy?” his dad asked, looking at the keys next to him now and rubbing his head._

_“Oh, shit, sorry Dad. I wasn’t expecting you to be home,” Bucky said. He threw his backpack towards his room and came to sit by his father, grabbing his keys again._

_“You thought there was an intruder, so you threw your car keys at him?”_

_Bucky blushed and shrugged. “Whatever. I coulda run. Stevie’s is right down the way.”_

_His dad made a noise in the back of his throat before looking pointedly at the table in front of him. Bucky reached for it, though he wasn’t super enthused. Since he’d taken the ASVAB and SAT, he’d been getting non-stop college mail._

_“Did you already open this?” he asked, tapping his fingers together when he realized there was wet glue under the flap._

_“Alright, maybe I did. But you didn’t even react to who it was from!”_

_Bucky flipped the envelope back over and felt his stomach drop out from under him. “Virginia sent me a letter?” He swallowed thickly. “You’ve gotta tell me if it’s just spam. I can’t read a spam letter from Virginia.”_

_His dad beamed at him and pushed Bucky’s hands back towards him. “Read it.”_

_Bucky’s hands shook as he opened the letter and pulled it out. “Dear Mr. Barnes. We’re very glad to offer you an all expenses paid trip to campus to discuss your fit in our community and… And on our baseball team!” Bucky nearly shouted, jumping up to stand on the couch as he kept reading. “Your tapes impressed us greatly and your references sung your praises. We’d like an opportunity to brag on what we’ve accomplished too. Hopefully this letter doesn’t find you too late. We don’t normally recruit during non-senior years, but we think you’re a special case and would love for you to keep our name in mind.”_

_Bucky looked at his father and waved the letter around. “Dad! Dad! Virginia wants to meet me! They want me to talk baseball with them!”_

_George laughed and stood up, though he didn’t get on the couch. “I know! I told you they were noticing. You think I don’t know Coach Phillips when I see him in the stands?” He made a scoffing noise and offered his hand out for Bucky to use as he climbed back off the couch._

_“Oh my God, Dad, do you know what this means? This is practically guaranteed acceptance. Oh my God, they really want me.”_

_“This means you’re still going to work your little ass off in your classes,” George corrected._

_Bucky made a face and then brought the paper up to his nose, taking a deep breath as if that made it more real. The paper and the ink and the glue._

_“Oh my God, I’m going.”_

_George laughed and hugged his son tightly, letting Bucky grip onto him and cry into his shoulder. Relief and love and fear and excitement were overwhelming Bucky at the moment and he couldn’t contain himself. But George Barnes had never asked his son to contain himself and didn’t now._

_“Dad, this is real. This is one more step to the BML. One more step to our dreams.”_

_George nodded and rubbed Bucky’s back. “You’re gonna blow them away.”_

 

_* * *_

 

_There’s a picture in the Barnes household that shows George Barnes, in his college graduation regalia, holding a squirming Bucky at one year old. By virtue of Bucky being a baby squirming around, he’s sprawled in fifty different directions and George is laughing as he tried to keep him in one position. He’s young, younger than Bucky ever remembers him looking._

_And Bucky realized how young he felt in his own moment. His teammates were gathered around him, jostling for pictures and obnoxious congratulations and a few heartfelt messages. Steve wasn’t by his side and that felt like someone had taken a hot shear and torn him in half, but his dad was there._

_“Becs!” Bucky called, untangling himself from his friends. He waved his hand and she grinned, helping their dad across the rocky landscaping. “Hey, old man,” he greeted, leaning down to kiss his dad’s cheek and then hug him tightly._

_“Oh, James, I’m so proud of you,” George said, face warm and loving. Bucky took his hands and hugged him again before pulling Becca in to it too._

_“I love you so much. I can’t believe it’s already over.”_

_“Well, I saw your transcript and some of those classes definitely need to be done again,” Becca teased._

_Bucky glared at her and made a show of tugging George away from her. “I’m gonna take pictures with the family that actually loves me.”_

_“Who says that’s me?” George asked and laughed, holding Bucky close when he tried to worm away._

_“It’s my big day! You guys are the worst!” he whined. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face though. “Wait, wait, Becs, I’ve been planning this for years and missed it at high school,” he said quickly. “Pops, hop up,” he said, hooking his arms around George’s back and knees and lifting him up._

_Becca laughed and quickly snapped several shots of George’s indignant face and Bucky’s laughter and the moment they both fell apart._

_“I have something to show you,” George said, once they’d picked themselves up and dusted off the dirt. He unbuttoned his suit coat and the dress shirt he was wearing to reveal a Hydras jersey on underneath. “It’s yours. I’m gonna miss 17, but 42 isn’t bad.”_

_“Living that Jackie Robinson life.”_

_“You wish you were half as influential,” Becca scoffed. Bucky gave her the bird with one hand and touched the jersey with the other._

_“This is real, huh? I’m done with school and I’m going pro.”_

_George beamed at him. Even though he hated the  Hydras, he’d wear the jersey as long as Bucky was playing. They’d be his team while Bucky was on it._

_“You’re really going pro.”_

_Bucky hugged his father again, mumbling nonsensical thank yous into his shoulder._

 

_A month later, Bucky was less okay. He hadn’t meant to be out that night, but he’d gotten drunk in his apartment and gone out anyway. There were bruises up and down his ribs and abs and thighs from the brutal training the Hydras went through and Bucky was slowly starting to regret his decision. He was a dumb 22 year old who felt like someone was ripping his body apart every time they handed him a bat._

_And of course he only knew sports bars and of course every single one was repeating the draft. And of course Steve was the first round pick. And of course George Barnes was right there next to him, hugging him like the father Steve had never known. Like the only father Steve_ had _ever known._

_Bucky wasn’t even sure where he was walking at this point. He was too drunk to stop and ask for directions and the man he’d picked up a few bars ago had decided he wasn’t worth it apparently because he was no longer by Bucky’s side. Fine by Bucky. He kept thinking he was ready for casual sex, but that had not been true so far and he had barely managed a blow job a week ago before breaking down in tears._

_It wasn’t until he was digging in his pockets and producing keys that he knew by heart that he realized where he was. Bucky let himself into the Barnes house, calling out so his dad knew it was him. He probably wasn’t wearing his glasses at home so late._

_“Jimmy?” George called and Bucky followed his voice to the living room, found his father sitting on the couch with the TV playing old late-night comedy. Bucky wordlessly crept over to the couch and laid across it, his head in his father’s lap._

_“I know, little man. Steve wasn’t so strong either,” George said softly. “You two should just talk to each other.”_

_Bucky shook his head and closed his eyes. It didn’t stop the tears. “I just miss you.”_

_“I’m right here, Jim.”_

_“I miss all of it.”_

_“I know, champ. I know.”_

 

* * * 

 

The bases were loaded, there were two outs, Bucky was up to bat.

The slide was a strike. The drop was a ball. The curve was a ball.

The sun was hot and bright and just like a million days on the little league field.

Bucky waited for the fastball. It was definitely going to be a fastball. It had to be. And he swung when it came over the bag.

He swung at it. 

He swung at it to stop Rollins’ taunt that he’d strike out looking again. He swung at it to send Rumlow reeling backwards. He swung at it to keep Maximoff honest.

And the ball fucking flew.

Bucky knew this field. He knew that fence. He knew homeruns shouldn’t be possible. But Frank Castle had stolen a homerun over that fence. And Bucky’s first homer of the season was over that fence. And if Brock fucking Rumlow could dream of beating that fence, Bucky could damn sure sail over it.

The ball flew over Rumlow’s head. The ball flew over the outfield, over the fence. Someone tried to mimic Castle but no one climbing the fence was going to stop that ball. Alexander fucking Pierce wasn’t going to stop that fucking ball.

It landed in the second mezzanine before Bucky started rounding the bases. Nat, Sam, and Steve all came in and waited for Bucky at home. Normally Bucky didn’t take the bag slowly. Normally he didn’t watch the ball sail away. But, Goddammit, he’d earned this. His father had earned this!

“You run, you don’t watch the fucking ball,” Rumlow barked, running next to Bucky from second to third. “What kind of fucking player are you? You fucking airhead, pampered-ass, fuck.”

Bucky ignored him, didn’t run away. Instead, he rounded third and ran right into the jumping mass of his team, of arms and smiles and cheers. They all jumped as Bucky stepped onto home. Even Sam, who’d taken a bad twist on third as he came in and was being supported by Riley.

“Let’s keep them here!” Bucky shouted, causing another uproar as they worked their way back to the dugout. Bucky looked up at the stands, past Maria and Carol and the babies and his sister. He didn’t spare a glance at Pierce’s box. He found his dad’s face, the smile that matched his exactly, and tipped his hat off at him.

 

* * *

 

**Game 8: Inning 9: Bottom: Hydra--8 / Avengers--10**


	10. Life's a Fastball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from [literally "The Baseball Song"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2LkFm6BV2eg)

**Game 8: Inning 9: Bottom: Hydra--8 / Avengers--10**

 

“Steve, take left field,” Fury ordered while Scott helped Banner lay Sam out, get his leg undressed enough to look at his rapidly swelling ankle. “Rand, you’re in on Second.”

“What?!” Bucky objected. “Put Rand in left field. Leave me and Steve together. We’ve been doing great all game.”

“Rand can’t run for shit,” Wade said from where he was perched on the bench, eating Bucky’s sunflower seeds.

“Put Wade out there!”

“You’re not the coach of this team, Barnes. You’ll do as I tell you to. Steve, Left. Rand, Second,” Fury repeated, staring at Bucky. Bucky’s jaw clenched but he looked away, backed down.

“We’re gonna hold them here, guys,” Steve said, drawing the attention and energy towards him. “We’ve worked well all game. We’re working on the biggest high we’ve had all season. We’re gonna finish this shit right now.”

Everyone hollered their agreements and Steve held his fist out. Eleven hands, plus Sam’s continuing hollered support, joined Steve’s. “Avengers!” he called, grinning at everyone huddled around him.

“Assemble!” they shouted back and all piled onto the field.

Bucky still wasn’t comfortable about Rand playing second and Steve so far away from him. He wasn’t comfortable with Steve in outfield when he hadn’t played outfield in a game since their first professional year. (Yes, Bucky kept up with all that shit even when he hated Steve). And he damn sure wasn’t comfortable arguing about it while Clint looked so damn zoned in, nothing like he had in the earlier innings.

Good thing he kept his mouth shut because Clint took three pitches to strike out the first batter. He’d wracked up two on the next batter, but the guy got a piece of the ball and sent it bouncing over Clint’s head. It looked like it was about to bounce over Rand’s head too and Bucky watched a million different vindications come true in the worst way. But Rand surprised all by leaping into the air to catch the ball. He toppled over backwards and blindly threw his whole glove at Bucky on Second to use as the game ball.

Unfortunately the batter didn’t try to run to second and Bucky couldn’t get the out. He freed the ball and threw it back to Clint before offering the glove to Rand.

“Good play, kid. I’m gonna need you to keep going all out like that, okay?”

Rand slowly smiled at him and nodded and Bucky realized how young he was. Adrenaline and nerves pulsed under Bucky’s skin and he refused to acknowledge it. Rand had just made that play. His newness didn’t matter. It didn’t. The game did.

The next batter popped the ball up and it was in foul territory, but Luke went for it anyway. Only, he stopped a step too far. Bucky watched in slow motion as Luke turned away from the sun for a second, tried to adjust his glove to shade his eyes, and lost the ball in the sky.

Bucky ran over, sliding down by Luke’s feet to catch the ball just behind him where it had seemed to sit in the air instead of completing its arc. He heard Wade and Scott losing it in the dugout, shouting and whistling, but Bucky’s head was spinning too much to do anything. He tossed the ball to Luke and took a second to sit with his head between his bent knees on the ground.

“Water, Barnes?” Banner called. Bucky waved him off. It just felt like all of the anxiety in his body had left all at once. He needed something else in his head space or else he might float into space.

“Come on, let’s get you back in the game,” Luke said a few moments later, pulling Bucky up and helping him walk back to where he belonged. “Courage, kid. You’re gonna need it.” He tilted his head towards home plate.

Because it was Brock fucking Rumlow taking a few practice swings in the batter’s box. He turned to shoot a cocky grin at Bucky before pointing to the wall, lips pursed in what was probably a whistle. Bucky swallowed thickly. It felt like all the glass sand on the field was in the back of his throat now. Blood dripped down the back of his arm from where he’d slid during the catch. Rumlow was in the box. Rumlow was…

Normally, the crack of a bat did obscene things to Bucky. In college, it had been the fastest way for Steve to ensure himself shower sex after a game. One good shot at the ball and Bucky would be all over him all night. But, in the bottom of the last inning of the last game for the Series qualifier, while Bucky was on the field, it was a sound he never wanted to hear. He watched the ball soar over his head, towards the outfield.

It was all the nightmares he had. It was Pierce sitting in his box, watching a runner start for third because they knew there was no way anyone was catching that ball. It was Rumlow heading to the Series while Bucky had to watch it from his couch. It was a season of growth, lost.

Steve was making a hell of an attempt. He’d executed a beautiful step back, wasn’t tripping over his feet or the long grass. Bucky jogged after him to be the cut off when he finally stopped it on the ground.

Until Bucky realized that Steve was still sprinting, kicking Bucky’s heart rate up in his chest. He looked like he was born for the outfield. And then he was leaping, something superhuman, across the field. The ball was in his glove! He tucked and rolled onto the ground and jumped up with the ball triumphantly safe!

Bucky ran out to him, beat Castle and Riley to it, and leapt into Steve’s arms, clinging onto his shoulders. “Steve, you did it!” he shouted before throwing away their cautiousness, their PR patience, their aloofness. He kissed Steve so hard that their hats fell off. His fingers came up to Steve’s jaw and Steve gripped onto his hips.

Bucky assumed their PDA was on the Big Board when the crowd erupted, but he didn’t have much time to think about it before the team was tackling Steve down, dog piling on top of them. Elbows were in ribs and wrists were bent weird and heads kept hitting heads, but holy shit, they’d just beaten the Hydras to secure their spot in the Series! It had been years since the Avengers had gotten to the Series!

“A-ven-gers, A-ven-gers, A-ven-gers!” the crowd chanted as they slowly untangled and helped each other up. Some of the team waved at the crowd. Sam and Riley celebrated the same way Bucky and Steve had. Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky’s waist and handed him his hat.

“Is the Series the end of the line?” he mused with a small smile.

Bucky shook his head. “No way. There’s always next season too.”

“Ah, right, this is why you’re the brains of the operation.”

Bucky grinned at him and Steve leaned down to kiss him once , then twice, then once again. “I love you so much.”

“Til the end of the line,” Bucky agreed. He held his hat in front of their faces as a drone-camera flew by. He kissed Steve again.

 

**Game 8: Final: Hydra -- 8 / Avengers -- 10**

 

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, you guys! You've all been amazing as I finished this little thing! Thank you all so much!!! 
> 
> Please, give all the love to the AMAZING artist [Odette-And-Odile](https://odette-and-odile.tumblr.com/) who offered encouragement, praise, and help whenever I needed and kept me going on this project that we were both so in love with from the start.
> 
> Reblog their awesome art [Here!](https://odette-and-odile.tumblr.com/post/185802292543/all-american-so-excited-to-share-this-art-made)
> 
> If you ever want to talk baseball or Bucky Barnes (or any of the Captains America) you can find me [Here!](https://abarbaricyalp.tumblr.com/)
> 
> One last thing, if you love baseball enough to read this fic, please consider watching "A League of Their Own" "Undrafted" and "42" They're my all time favorites. (Undrafted is free on Hulu and I literally watch it once a week. I watched it three times in one day once)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art: Perfect Flow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23904517) by [LiquidLightz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiquidLightz/pseuds/LiquidLightz)




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